#You know it's really kind of amazing that like

[hadesisqueer]

What's your favorite fight in the show?

In RWBY? RWBY vs Ace Ops, no doubt. It's just amazing and it shows how smart team RWBY is and how that gets them the win rather than just going with strength/skill. Like the factors:

The taunting: Harriet and Elm are the clearly the most emotional members of the Ace Ops and very quick to anger, something that Ruby and Yang take into consideration and both of them provoke them with words, which makes the other two act without thinking. “We're the best Huntsmen in Atlas”, “You were, then you trained us” specifically was not only badass but also a genius response from Ruby's part. She then gets to run away and make sure Harriet for sure follows her, driving her away from their teams, which is the smartest move considering she's the only one who could handle Harriet's speed for a while. She then mostly proceeds to stay on the defense rather than straight up fighting her, and lets Harriet tire herself out.

Yang and Blake's team work: The Bees take on the Trees (lmao). At first it doesn't go well, trying to 1v1 and all, but they're both smart enough to see one clear thing: Vine and Elm, rather than working with each other, they keep disagreeing and arguing with each other. So, Blake and Yang decide to do the opposite: work together. 2v1. Take one out first and then the other one. And boy does it work, because the moment Vine is out the other Ace Ops are like "oh, shit" and they realize they're fighting Huntresses, and that they're not playing around. And that sets the tone for the rest of the fight. Then Elm falls hard too lmao.

Weiss VS Marrow: Marrow's semblance is very OP, but it works only on one direction at a time. Which means that the moment they left him against Weiss, the poor guy —who didn't even want to fight and was holding back— was already kind of fucked, because she happened to be the one RWBY member that could fully counteract his semblance with her own. Weiss simply pulled a Freezerburn on her own, creating mist that gave her time to summon (showing how much she'd grown from her fight against Vernal). Then she kept her Arma Gigas and herself and opposite sides. Marrow uses Stay on her? Arma Gigas will attack him. Marrow uses Stay on Arma Gigas? Weiss is free, now she can attack him. She turned the 1v1 into a 2v1, and considering Marrow really didn't wanna fight her or hurt her, it was clear he was going to lose the moment they left him with her.

Weiss and Ruby's team work: Ruby showed up to assist Weiss against Marrow. Instead of choosing to work against them together, Marrow and Harriet argue and disagree with each other, and then Ruby runs and drives Harriet away again in anger. Then, after Weiss has dealt with Marrow, she's the one that shows up to help Ruby again, and kind of takes Harriet out-- well, really, Harriet took herself out, but you know what I mean here. Despite fighting Marrow and Harriet separately (99% on purpose, they were definitely keeping them apart intentionally), Ruby and Weiss were still working together. Harriet and Marrow weren't, because Hare was too blinded by her rage to even consider collaborating with Marrow. Again, the taunting worked.

In any case, genius fight. Team RWBY won not for skills or because they were stronger. They won by using their brains and working together and proved that what they lacked in experience compared to the Ace Ops, they made up for it by being a much better team. That's why it's my fave.

[gpcwsl]

Leah Williamson x Reader

- Complete mess -

WC: 7.4k

MasterList

Warnings: long, kissing.

(Sorry for putting Leah as Captain for Arsenal, I know it’s Kimmy and I love Kim. Just for this Fiction, okay?)

The crisp afternoon air feels refreshing as you step onto the park path, your scarf wrapped snugly around your neck. It’s rare that you get a few hours to yourself, but with your mum looking after Ellie for the afternoon, you finally have a moment to breathe. You love your daughter more than anything, but between teaching, parenting, and making sure she never feels the absence of her father, you’re exhausted. A walk is exactly what you need.

You take a deep breath, allowing the cool air to clear your mind. The park is bustling, families with children running around, people walking their dogs, groups of friends chatting. You slip your hands into your coat pockets, lost in thought, when—

“Oof—sorry!”

You collide with someone, stumbling back slightly. Strong hands reach out to steady you, and when you look up, you find yourself face to face with none other than Leah Williamson.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, eyes widening. “You’re—”

Leah chuckles, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn’t paying attention.”

You shake your head, still in slight disbelief. “No, it’s fine. My fault too, I wasn’t really looking where I was going.”

She smiles, and that’s when you notice she’s not alone. Behind her stand a few more familiar faces—some of the Arsenal women’s team. Beth Mead, Katie McCabe, and Caitlin Foord, all chatting amongst themselves but now watching the interaction with curiosity.

“You alright?” Leah asks, her gaze soft as she takes in your expression.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, just… a little surprised. I didn’t expect to bump into Arsenal’s captain on my walk.”

Leah grins. “Well, we were just grabbing a coffee before training. You a football fan?”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, actually. I teach, so I don’t always get to watch live, but my daughter and I love the game.”

At the mention of your daughter, Leah’s expression shifts slightly—interest flickering in her eyes. “You have a daughter?”

You nod. “Ellie. She’s seven. My parents are watching her for a few hours, so I thought I’d take a walk.”

Leah tilts her head. “That’s nice. Must be busy juggling work and parenting.”

You smile wryly. “That’s an understatement.”

Before Leah can respond, Katie steps closer, nudging her with her elbow. “You gonna introduce us, or are we just standing here like weirdos?”

Leah rolls her eyes but turns back to you. “This is Katie, Beth, and Caitlin.”

You greet them, feeling slightly overwhelmed but also oddly comfortable. They’re just normal people—albeit incredibly talented ones.

“You should come to a match sometime,” Beth suggests. “Bring Ellie. If she likes football, she’d love it.”

Leah nods in agreement. “Yeah, we can sort something out. Maybe even a little meet-and-greet after.”

Your heart warms at the thought. “That would be amazing. She’d be over the moon.”

Leah smiles, her gaze lingering on you for a second longer than necessary before she shifts, glancing back at the others. “We should probably get going, but it was nice bumping into you. Literally.”

You laugh. “Yeah, you too.”

As they walk away, Leah turns back one last time. “Hey—maybe I’ll see you around?”

You don’t miss the hopeful tone in her voice.

“Maybe,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips.

And for the first time in a long while, something stirs in your chest—something that feels an awful lot like excitement.

With a lingering smile on your lips, you watch Leah and the rest of the Arsenal team walk away before exhaling a quiet breath. That was unexpected. You weren’t exactly the kind of person to bump into football stars on your afternoon walks. Yet, there you were, brushing shoulders with Leah Williamson like it was nothing.

You shake your head, trying to push away the fluttering feeling in your stomach. It’s been a while since anyone made you feel like that—since anyone looked at you the way Leah did, even if it was just for a moment.

Still, you have time to yourself, and you intend to make the most of it. Your stomach rumbles slightly, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten much today. Glancing around, you spot a cozy-looking café on the corner. It seems inviting, with warm lighting and a few people inside, chatting over coffee and pastries.

Without hesitation, you head inside.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wraps around you like a comforting embrace. You walk up to the counter, scanning the menu, before ordering a simple meal and a latte. As you wait, you feel the weight of a gaze on you—multiple, actually.

Unbeknownst to you, across the café, a certain group of footballers had chosen a table near the window. Leah, who had insisted they sit there in the first place, is completely distracted, her eyes fixed on you.

Katie notices first. “Alright, Leah, what’s with the staring?”

Leah blinks, as if she didn’t even realize she had been so obvious. She turns to her teammates, a slightly dazed expression on her face. “Did you see her?” she asks, as if it’s the most important question in the world.

Caitlin raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, mate. You literally ran into her.”

Leah shakes her head, leaning forward slightly. “No, but did you see her?”

Beth smirks, sipping her coffee. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, Captain.”

Leah exhales, running a hand through her hair. “Her eyes—did you see them? They’re unreal. And her features—like, how does someone look that effortlessly gorgeous? It’s unfair.”

Katie and Caitlin exchange amused glances.

“And her voice,” Leah continues, barely stopping for breath. “It’s so soft, but there’s something about it… like, I could listen to her talk all day. She just—” She sighs dramatically, shaking her head.

Beth snickers. “You’re actually down bad already.”

“I’m not—” Leah starts, but even she knows it’s a lie. She glances back at you, watching as you take your coffee and meal to a small table by the window, oblivious to the attention you’re getting. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear, the way your lips curl slightly when you take a sip of your drink—it’s all making Leah feel something she hadn’t expected.

Katie nudges her. “You should go talk to her again.”

Leah scoffs, though there’s a faint pink tint to her cheeks. “And say what? ‘Hey, I know we just met, but I think you might actually be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen’?”

Caitlin laughs. “Honestly, that might work.”

Beth shrugs. “Or, you know, you could just casually bump into her again. Since you’re so good at that.”

Leah rolls her eyes but doesn’t look away from you.

Because as much as she pretends otherwise, she already knows—this isn’t the last time she wants to see you.

You take a slow sip of your latte, letting the warmth settle inside you. It’s been a while since you’ve had a moment like this—just you, a quiet café, and no responsibilities tugging at your sleeve. But something tingles at the back of your mind, a feeling like you’re being watched.

Curious, you glance up, letting your gaze drift around the café. That’s when you spot them.

Leah and her teammates.

All of them are at a table near the window, and while Beth, Katie, and Caitlin are watching with amused grins, Leah is different. She’s frozen, eyes locked onto yours, a slight deer-in-headlights look on her face.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. Then, unable to help yourself, you offer a small wave, just a polite acknowledgment before turning back to your food.

Leah, however, doesn’t recover so quickly.

The second you wave, her entire body tenses. Then, as if her brain has only just caught up, her face flushes—deeply. She abruptly looks away, running a hand through her hair as if that will somehow cool down the sudden heat rushing to her face.

“Oh my God,” Katie cackles, nearly choking on her drink. “Leah. You’re actually blushing.”

Beth leans in, grinning. “That was so cute. She caught you staring, and instead of playing it cool, you turned into a human tomato.”

Leah exhales sharply, pressing her hands to her face for a second before dropping them. “Shut up.”

Caitlin smirks. “Breathe, mate. You’re looking a little overwhelmed there.”

Leah straightens, taking a deep breath as if it’ll help. It doesn’t. “I was not staring.”

Beth raises an eyebrow. “Right, and I’m not sitting here watching you have a full meltdown because she waved at you.”

Leah groans, resting her elbow on the table and dropping her face into her hand. “I hate you all.”

Leah peeks through her fingers, sneaking another glance in your direction. You’re focused on your food again, seemingly unbothered, but Leah’s mind is still spinning.

“She’s just…” Leah exhales, still pink in the face. “Really beautiful.”

Beth grins. “Yeah, we got that part.”

Caitlin nudges Leah’s foot under the table. “You gonna talk to her, or just keep embarrassing yourself from a distance?”

Leah huffs but doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she watches you, a small, almost shy smile creeping onto her lips.

Because, if she’s being honest, she’s already hoping for another chance to speak to you again.

The café is warm, but you know it’s time to go. You glance at your phone, checking the time. Still a little while before you need to pick up Ellie, but you’d rather take your time walking back.

Standing up, the chair scrapes loudly against the floor, breaking the quiet hum of conversation. Across the room, Leah looks up immediately, as if instinctively drawn to the sound. Her eyes track your movements as you push the chair back into place, gather your things, and head toward the bin in the corner to dispose of your rubbish.

And yet, without even trying, you do things that make Leah’s brain short-circuit.

The way you tuck your hair behind your ear while holding your bag. The casual way your fingers glide along the strap as you adjust it on your shoulder. The soft sigh you let out—like you’re lost in thought, unaware of the effect you’re having on her.

Leah swallows hard. God, she’s actually unreal.

Beth notices the way Leah is practically enchanted by you and smirks. She glances at Katie and Caitlin, exchanging a silent agreement before—

Shove.

Leah stumbles forward, nearly tripping over her own feet as she’s quite literally pushed in your direction.

“What the—” she starts, whipping her head back to glare at them, but it’s too late.

You’re already by the door, and now she’s standing right behind you.

You pause, sensing someone close, and turn—only to find Leah Williamson, cheeks slightly pink, looking… nervous?

You blink, surprised. “Leah?”

Leah clears her throat, forcing herself to hold eye contact despite the absolute chaos inside her head. “Uh—hi.”

You tilt your head slightly, amused. “Hi?”

Behind her, Beth is barely containing her laughter. Katie is grinning like an idiot. Caitlin is watching like this is the best entertainment she’s had in weeks.

Leah is so out of her depth. The fearless, confident player who commands the pitch like it’s her second home? She’s gone. What remains is a flustered, slightly panicked woman who desperately wants to get this right.

“I, um…” Leah rubs the back of her neck, eyes darting everywhere but at you. “I was just wondering if—uh—” She exhales sharply, shaking her head at herself. “Okay, this is embarrassing.”

You chuckle softly, and the sound makes Leah’s stomach do something weird.

“You okay there?” you ask, smiling, completely unaware of the absolute mess you’re making of her.

Leah straightens, trying to compose herself. “Yeah. Yeah, I just…” She takes a deep breath. Come on, Williamson, get it together.

She meets your eyes—God, those eyes—and blurts out, “Can I have your number?”

It’s not smooth. It’s not charming. In fact, it’s probably the most awkward she’s ever been.

But instead of laughing at her, you seem pleasantly surprised. “Oh,” you say, lips curling in a way that makes Leah’s brain melt. “Yeah, sure.”

She blinks. “Wait, really?”

You laugh again, pulling out your phone. “Yes, really.”

Leah quickly fumbles for her own phone, hands slightly shaky as she hands it to you. You type in your number, saving it before passing it back.

“There,” you say. “Now you can awkwardly text me later too.”

Leah groans, covering her face with her hand for a second. “I am never living this down.”

“Nope,” you tease, stepping back toward the door. “But it was cute.”

Leah nearly dies on the spot.

Beth, Katie, and Caitlin are losing their minds in the background, but Leah doesn’t care. Because you just called her cute.

As you push open the door, you glance back at her one last time. “Talk soon, Leah.”

And with that, you’re gone, leaving Leah standing there, heart pounding, phone clutched in her hand like it’s the most valuable thing she owns.

Katie claps her on the back. “Well, that was painful to watch.”

Beth smirks. “But adorable.”

Caitlin sips her coffee. “She totally likes you.”

Leah barely hears them. She’s too busy staring at your name in her contacts, already smiling like an idiot.

Hours later, you find yourself back at your parents’ house. The warmth of home surrounds you—the comforting hum of the kettle boiling, the faint scent of whatever your mum is preparing for dinner, and the familiar laughter of Ellie as she plays with her granddad.

Ellie, of course, doesn’t want to leave just yet.

“Can I stay a little longer, Mum?” she asks, her big, hopeful eyes looking up at you. “Granddad said he might take me to the park!”

You glance toward your dad, who grins and nods. “I did promise, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, ruffling Ellie’s hair. “Alright, but don’t keep him running around too much.”

“No promises!” Ellie grins before grabbing her granddad’s hand and dragging him toward the door. “Come on, Granddad!”

Your mum shakes her head fondly, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “That child has too much energy.”

“I wonder where she gets it from,” you tease, but your mum just waves you off.

You step forward. “I can help with dinner if you want?”

Your mum scoffs, gently pushing you toward the living room. “Absolutely not. You had a break today—enjoy it.”

You sigh but smile nonetheless. “Alright, alright.”

With that, you make your way to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a satisfied exhale. It’s nice to just… sit for a moment.

Then, your phone buzzes.

You glance down at it, unlocking the screen, and your lips twitch at the name that appears.

Leah Williamson.

There’s something about the way the text is structured—the slightly uneven spacing, the hesitation in her words—that tells you one thing immediately: she’s nervous.

Leah: Hey… um, so I know I was kinda awkward earlier. Like, really awkward. But I swear I’m usually a lot cooler than that. Okay, maybe not ‘cool,’ but, like… not a complete mess. I just—ugh. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is… hi? How’s your evening?

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh. You can see her overthinking, can imagine her running a hand through her hair while sending this.

Smiling to yourself, you type out a reply.

You: Hi, Leah :) My evening’s been good. Back at my parents’ house. My daughter wanted to stay with them a little longer. Also… you were cute earlier, if that helps your ‘not a complete mess’ argument.

The response is immediate.

Leah: Oh my God, you’re actually trying to kill me.

You grin, feeling an unexpected warmth spread in your chest.

This was going to be fun.

Leah stares at her phone, rereading your last message for what has to be the fifth time.

Cute. You called her cute.

She exhales sharply, running a hand down her face before gripping her phone tighter. Get it together, Williamson.

The first few texts were rough. She was fully prepared for Beth, Katie, or Caitlin to somehow get a hold of her phone and roast her for them later. But now? Now, she’s finally found a rhythm.

Still flustered as hell, still nervous, but at least she’s stopped typing and deleting every message five times before sending it.

Leah: You can’t just say stuff like that. It’s dangerous.

You: Dangerous?

Leah: Yes. Extremely. I could’ve dropped my phone. Or walked into a wall. Life-threatening, really.

She barely has a second to breathe before you respond.

You: Maybe I should warn you next time then? “Hey Leah, I’m about to say something that’ll make you spiral. Brace yourself.”

Leah groans, flopping back onto her bed. She’s grinning like an idiot, and she knows it.

Leah: Yes, please. That would be helpful. I have a fragile heart.

You: I feel like that’s a lie. You don’t seem fragile at all.

Leah huffs out a quiet laugh. If only you knew.

Leah: You might be surprised.

She hesitates for a second before adding:

Leah: I’m glad you texted me back, though.

Her heart beats a little faster as she waits for your reply.

You: Of course I did. I was hoping you’d text me first.

Leah swears her brain short-circuits.

She doesn’t hesitate this time.

Leah: Yeah?

You: Yeah :)

She exhales, running a hand through her hair, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

Maybe this wasn’t so terrifying after all.

You’ve been texting Leah for almost an hour now, and honestly? You’re having way too much fun. You never imagined a simple conversation could make you smile like this, but here you are, grinning at your phone like a teenager with a crush.

It’s easy to forget the world around you when the text bubble from Leah pops up with each new message, each one a bit bolder than the last. The earlier awkwardness is fading—Leah’s still a little nervous, but her messages are smoother now, more confident.

But before you can respond, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching from the front door, followed by Ellie’s excited voice.

“We’re back, Mum!”

You glance up, blinking a little as you pull yourself back from the text conversation.

Ellie runs into the living room, her cheeks flushed from the cool air and the excitement of the park. Your dad follows, grinning and shaking his head at her.

“Had a good time?” you ask, watching as Ellie practically bounces on her toes.

“The best! Granddad showed me how to climb the big tree!” Ellie exclaims, her face beaming.

You smile and ruffle her hair. “That sounds fun. Now, how about we get dinner started?”

Ellie groans dramatically, though it’s clear she’s still got energy to burn. “Do I have to? I want to go out again.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Dinner first. Then we’ll talk about anything else.”

Your dad chuckles, heading into the kitchen to help your mum. The house feels like it’s settling back into its rhythm, and you can’t help but feel content.

But then, you glance at your phone again. Leah’s name still lights up the screen, and the conversation has slowed to a lull, almost like she’s waiting for you to say something.

With a sigh, you tap out a message, knowing you should wrap it up.

You: I have to go now, Leah. Dinner’s on the table and I’m needed. But I’ll talk to you soon, okay?

A few seconds pass, and you can practically hear Leah’s internal panic.

Leah: Yeah, of course. Enjoy dinner with your family. And, uh… we’ll talk soon, yeah?

You can’t help but smile.

You: Definitely. Take care, Leah.

Leah: You too. Talk soon.

You put your phone down, a small sigh escaping you as you settle back into the present moment. It’s strange how something so simple—just texting someone—could make you feel this way. But you already know one thing for sure: this won’t be the last time you hear from Leah. And you’re definitely looking forward to what comes next.

Leah stares at her phone, her heart still racing slightly. She can’t help but giggle to herself, her fingers hovering over the screen as she rereads your last message for the third time.

Talk soon.

The simple phrase should be innocent enough, but coming from you… it feels like a promise. She’s not sure why, but there’s something about the way you text her that makes everything feel like it matters a little more than it probably should.

She leans back against her pillows, a soft smile still plastered on her face, completely oblivious to the teasing going on in the background.

“I swear, you’re like a giddy schoolgirl,” Beth says, watching her from across the room with a raised eyebrow.

Leah rolls her eyes, but the smile doesn’t fade. “I’m not. I’m just—” She stammers, trying to form an excuse, but there’s no way around it. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am.”

Katie grins. “I knew it. You’ve totally got a crush on her, don’t you?”

Leah feels the warmth in her cheeks as she presses her phone against her face, hiding the full extent of her embarrassment. “It’s not like that,” she mutters, though even she knows it’s a total lie.

But then she thinks back to your texts, the way you’d signed off with that little “talk soon,” and her heart flutters all over again. She lets out a soft sigh, giggling to herself.

Maybe she was a little giddy.

“Alright, alright,” Beth teases. “We get it. You’re smitten.”

Leah gives them both a pointed glare, but it’s half-hearted. She can’t help it. They’re right.

“I don’t even care,” Leah says, still smiling. “I like her. Is that such a crime?”

Katie shakes her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Nope. Not a crime at all.”

Leah can’t wipe the grin off her face as she types another message to you, letting her nerves settle. She’s still a little unsure of where this might go, but for the first time in a long time, she’s excited about the possibilities.

Leah: Talk soon, yeah? And just so you know… you’ve definitely got me smiling.

As she hits send, she can’t help but giggle again, imagining what your response might be. For once, she’s not afraid of the unknown. Instead, she’s looking forward to it.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, you find yourself in the car, driving Ellie to school. Her excitement from the park yesterday still hasn’t worn off, and she chatters away in the passenger seat, recounting every detail of her adventure with her granddad.

“Granddad said we could go next week, too!” Ellie says with a grin, glancing at you.

You chuckle. “Sounds like a good plan. Just don’t climb too many trees, okay? I don’t want to be picking you up from the nurse’s office again.”

Ellie rolls her eyes but laughs, knowing full well that’s not a likely scenario.

Once you drop Ellie off at the school gate, you wave her off and watch as she runs to meet her friends. As she disappears inside, you take a moment to breathe. The school has exams today, which means you have the day off from work—something you haven’t had in a while.

You lean back in the car, considering your options for the day. A part of you wonders if you should just enjoy the quiet, catch up on some errands, maybe even grab a coffee or read a book. But then, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

You pull it out and unlock the screen, instantly seeing the message you received from Leah last night. Talk soon, yeah? And just so you know… you’ve definitely got me smiling.

You smile at the memory of the conversation.

Without much hesitation, you open the messaging app and start typing, wondering if Leah might be free for a bit of company today.

You: Hey, Leah. I’ve got the day off—are you free, or are you training?

You wait for a few seconds, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. You’re not sure what you’re expecting—maybe she’s busy, maybe she’ll be all tied up with team obligations. But when the little three dots appear and then her message comes through, you feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Leah: I’m actually free! No training today. Got a couple of hours before I have to meet up with the team later.

You pause for a second, the words feeling lighter than they did yesterday, as if there’s less uncertainty now.

You: Nice. Want to grab a coffee or something?

It doesn’t take long before Leah replies.

Leah: Yes! I know a place we can go. I’ll send you the address in a sec. Can’t wait to see you again.

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. It’s subtle, but you can tell there’s a shift, a little more ease in her words now.

You: Looking forward to it.

You quickly put your phone down, starting the car and making your way to the café Leah suggested. The thought of spending time with her—after everything, after the teasing, the conversations—is something you find yourself looking forward to more than you realized.

You arrive at the café Leah suggested, a cozy spot tucked away in a quieter part of town. As you step inside, your eyes scan the room until they land on her—Leah, sitting at a small table by the window. She’s already a little red in the face, her posture a mix of confidence and a touch of uncertainty. As soon as she sees you, her face lights up, and she stands up quickly, almost knocking over her coffee in the process.

“Hey!” she greets, her voice a little higher than usual, but her smile is warm. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you reply with a grin, walking over to her table.

She pulls out the chair for you, and you sit down, feeling an odd combination of nervousness and excitement. There’s something about being with Leah in person that makes the butterflies in your stomach take flight. The small talk you had yesterday feels like a world away.

“So, you like this place?” Leah asks, trying to keep things light but you can tell she’s still a little on edge.

You nod, glancing around at the cozy atmosphere. “Yeah, it’s cute. I’ve passed it a few times, but never had the chance to stop in.”

“Good choice then,” Leah says, her fingers tapping nervously on her coffee cup. “I… uh… ordered for you already. Hope you don’t mind. I guessed cappuccino, but I could’ve gotten it wrong.”

You smile. “No, you guessed right. I’m a fan of cappuccinos.”

Leah visibly relaxes, the tension easing from her shoulders. She takes a deep breath and glances at you, still shy but with more confidence than before.

“So, tell me about Ellie,” Leah says, her voice soft. “She must be… well, she must be everything to you.”

You smile fondly, thinking of Ellie. “Yeah, she is. She’s smart, sassy, and always keeping me on my toes. She’s my little partner in crime.”

Leah’s smile is sincere. “I can tell you’re close. It’s nice, having that kind of bond.”

You nod. “Family’s everything, you know? It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

Leah looks down at her coffee, as if pondering something. “I can understand that. My family… well, we’re kind of scattered. My dad and I haven’t been close in years. I guess you could say I’m not the best at family stuff.” (I know Leah is very close with her family just pretend for this okay, thanks.)

You tilt your head, curious. “Do you want to talk about it? If you’re comfortable, of course.”

Leah hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head lightly. “Maybe not yet. It’s just… complicated, I guess.”

You nod, understanding. “I get that. Family can be messy sometimes.”

There’s a pause, a soft silence between you as you both sip your coffee. But then, Leah seems to gather her thoughts, her eyes meeting yours with a playful glint.

“So,” she begins, shifting in her seat, “if you don’t mind me asking… are you seeing anyone right now?”

The question catches you off guard for a moment. It’s casual enough, but there’s a hint of curiosity in Leah’s voice. You take a moment before answering, trying to gauge the vibe between you.

“No,” you answer with a smile. “I’m not seeing anyone. It’s been a while, actually. And I’ve been focused on Ellie more than anything.”

Leah’s eyes brighten a little, but she quickly hides her reaction behind a sip of her coffee. “Same here,” she admits, her tone a little more guarded. “I mean, I’ve been focused on football and… well, you know, the team. But I guess, it’s… it’s hard sometimes. Being single, I mean.”

You raise an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Really? I would’ve thought someone like you wouldn’t have a hard time with that.”

Leah chuckles, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You’d think, right? But it’s not always as easy as it looks.”

There’s an awkward pause, but this time it feels less tense. Instead, it’s more like you’re both getting to know each other in a way that feels… real.

Leah shifts again, leaning forward just a little. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, do you think I’m… I don’t know, someone you’d want to see again? Not that I’m trying to put any pressure on you or anything, just… curious.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of her vulnerability. “I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you again, Leah.”

Her eyes widen slightly, as if she wasn’t expecting you to say that. Then, she laughs, a bit of nervous energy spilling out. “Good. Because, um, I think I’d like that too.”

You both sit there for a moment, letting the quiet settle between you. Leah seems more comfortable now, more herself. And for the first time, you realize that this might not just be a casual coffee between two people who bumped into each other. It feels like the beginning of something… something you both are unsure about, but excited to explore.

As the conversation slows, Leah seems to hesitate for a moment, like she’s considering something. Then, with a soft exhale, she looks at you with a hint of a playful smile.

“So… I was thinking,” she starts, her voice a little more tentative than before. “If you’re up for it, we could go back to mine and watch a movie. I mean, if you don’t have anything else planned?”

You smile, intrigued by the idea. “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

Leah’s face lights up, and she gestures toward the door, clearly relieved. “Great! It’s not much, but it’s home.”

The two of you step outside, and after a short drive, you find yourselves at Leah’s house. It’s quieter here, tucked away in a suburban neighborhood that feels worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Leah unlocks the door, and you follow her inside, your eyes scanning the cozy living room. The faint scent of coffee and something sweet fills the air.

She tosses her keys onto the side table and looks over at you. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says, pointing to the couch. “I’ll grab some snacks.”

You sit down, the soft cushions sinking under you as you take in the space. It’s simple, but warm. Homey, in a way. You pull your legs up on the couch, settling into the corner.

Leah returns with a bowl of popcorn, a couple of drinks, and a small grin on her face. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I grabbed a little bit of everything.”

You smile as she hands you a drink. “Thanks. This is perfect.”

Leah starts the movie, something lighthearted and funny, the kind of film that makes you laugh without needing to think too much. For a while, you’re both just immersed in the movie, the sound of laughter filling the space. But as the film progresses, you feel a subtle shift in the air between you two.

You shift slightly on the couch, unconsciously leaning toward Leah. Without realizing it, you end up curling up a little closer to her, your head resting lightly on her shoulder. You can feel the warmth radiating from her body, her presence somehow grounding and comforting. It feels natural—nothing too forward, just two people getting lost in the moment.

Leah freezes for a split second, then lets out a soft breath. You don’t notice at first, too wrapped up in the movie and the closeness, but then you feel her tense up. You glance up at her, only to find her staring ahead at the screen, but her cheeks are flushed, and her grip on the popcorn bowl has loosened just a little.

You smile to yourself, unaware of how much of an effect you’re having on her. The weight of your head resting against her shoulder seems to be making her a mess—her breathing slightly heavier, her hand shaking as it hovers near the popcorn. She’s trying to focus on the movie, but it’s clear she’s struggling to keep herself together.

You let out a small sigh of contentment, still feeling relaxed and at ease in her presence. But Leah, on the other hand, seems to be quietly losing her composure. Her heart races under the calm exterior she’s desperately trying to maintain.

At one point, she pauses the movie, the silence between you two becoming more palpable.

“Are you… okay?” you ask softly, not fully aware of what you might have done to make her so flustered.

Leah lets out a shaky laugh, her voice lower than usual. “Yeah. Just… didn’t expect you to cuddle in like that.”

You blink, surprised by her reaction. “Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I—”

“No!” Leah quickly interrupts, her hands raised in reassurance. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest at her honesty. “I’m just… relaxing,” you say, trying to brush it off casually.

But Leah is anything but relaxed. She glances down at you, her eyes soft but filled with something more intense now. She swallows hard, as if trying to calm her racing thoughts.

“Well,” she says slowly, almost like she’s testing the waters, “just so you know… if you keep doing that… you might just make me completely lose it.”

You raise an eyebrow at her words, still blissfully unaware of how deeply you’ve affected her. But the playful glint in her eyes makes your heart skip a beat. You never expected to have this kind of effect on her, but here you are—both of you caught in a moment that neither of you seem ready to pull away from.

You don’t move away, instead, just relaxing deeper into her side, the movie playing on in the background, but the space between you both has shifted. It’s no longer just a casual hangout. It’s something else.

The movie ends, and the credits start to roll, but the atmosphere between us feels like it’s suspended in time. My heart is racing, but I’m trying to keep it together. The moment you cuddled up to me on the couch, I knew I was in trouble. Every inch of my body is on fire, my mind clouded with thoughts of you—of how close you are, how effortlessly comfortable you make me feel, even when I’m a complete mess inside.

I glance at the clock, and my heart sinks a little. It’s almost time to pick up Ellie.

You stretch out slightly, moving away from me just a little as you let out a soft sigh. “I should probably go,” you say, your voice calm, but I can hear the hint of reluctance in it, too.

I nod, trying to ignore the fact that the thought of you leaving is… well, it makes my chest tighten. “Yeah, I guess it’s getting late.”

We both stand up, and I walk you to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. The closer we get to the door, the more aware I am of how close we are, of how my heart won’t stop pounding in my chest. I can feel the heat radiating from you, and it makes my mind spin.

I reach for the door handle, but when I look over at you, it’s like the world slows down. You’re standing there, looking at me, but there’s something different in your eyes—a softness, a warmth. And I feel it. The pull. The connection.

We’re standing so close now, and I can’t help but notice the way your breath catches just slightly, your chest rising and falling with each breath, just like mine. The tension is thick in the air, and I can feel it in every inch of my body. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t stop myself from feeling drawn to you.

I bite my lip nervously, my eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, trying to figure out if I’m reading this right. “So…” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “What do you want to do now?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, there’s a moment of silence, where everything else fades away. Then, before I can even process it, you step closer, your eyes locked on mine.

And just like that, you lean in.

Your lips press softly against mine, the kiss gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But then, it deepens, just a little, and I feel the spark. I’m frozen for a split second, completely caught off guard by how natural it feels, how perfectly your lips fit against mine.

It’s a long kiss, one that feels like it’s suspended in time, each second stretching on, lingering in a way that makes my heart race even faster. I can feel the warmth of your body, the slight pressure of your hands, your scent filling my senses, and suddenly nothing else matters.

When we finally pull away, we both stand there, breathless. My pulse is pounding, my chest heaving. For a second, I’m too stunned to speak, too caught up in what just happened. The kiss wasn’t just a fleeting thing—it was something real, something more than either of us had expected.

You smile softly at me, and I can’t help but smile back, feeling the same warmth that’s been radiating between us all afternoon.

“Wow,” I whisper, my voice still a little shaky. “That… that was…” I trail off, still a little stunned by what just happened.

You grin, your eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something else—something I can’t quite place. “Yeah. I guess I wanted to do that for a while.”

I chuckle softly, still not fully processing everything. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

As I watch you turn to leave, I can’t help but feel a sense of longing. Something’s shifted between us, and I don’t know where this is going, but for the first time in a while, I don’t feel scared about it.

I stand in the doorway, watching you go, my heart still racing in my chest. What just happened felt like the beginning of something, and I can’t wait to see where it leads.

After training, your phone buzzes with a message from Leah. Her text is simple yet carries a weight of unspoken words:

“Hey, would love to spend more time with you today. Are you free?”

A smile tugs at your lips as you read her message. The connection between you two has been undeniable, and the thought of spending more time together fills you with warmth.

You quickly type a response:

“I’d love that. Let me check with my parents to see if they can look after Ellie.”

You call your parents, explaining the situation. They agree to take care of Ellie for the day, though you sense a hint of curiosity in their voices. They don’t press further, but you can tell they’re a bit suspicious.

With everything set, you head over to Leah’s house. As you arrive, she greets you with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

Inside, you both settle into the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee and something sweet in the air. The conversation flows easily, laughter and shared stories filling the space between you.

After a few minutes, Leah’s demeanor shifts. She becomes a bit more reserved, her eyes occasionally meeting yours before quickly looking away. You notice her hands fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, a subtle sign of her nervousness.

Sensing her hesitation, you decide to bridge the gap. You gently reach out, placing your hand over hers. Her breath catches, and she looks up at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance.

With a soft smile, you lean in, closing the distance between you. Leah’s eyes flutter closed as your lips meet in a gentle kiss. The world seems to pause around you, the only sound being the soft rhythm of your breathing.

As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of emotion, a connection that feels both new and familiar. Leah’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your arms wrapping around her.

The kiss is tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you’re beginning to explore together. When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, a shared smile playing on your lips.

Leah rests her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” she admits, her cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

You chuckle softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Me too,” you reply, your heart swelling with affection.

As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. The future feels uncertain, but with Leah by your side, you’re ready to face whatever comes next.

It’s been a few weeks since that first kiss, and every moment with you feels like a dream I never want to wake up from. Our time together has been filled with laughter, shared stories, and a connection that feels deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced. But there’s something I’ve been holding back, something I can’t keep to myself any longer.

We’re sitting on the couch in my living room, a movie playing softly in the background, though neither of us is paying much attention. Your head rests on my shoulder, and I can feel the steady rhythm of your breathing. I gently brush a strand of hair from your face, my fingers lingering on your skin.

“Hey,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

You look up at me, your eyes warm and inviting. “Yeah?”

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. “I… I’ve been thinking about us. About how much you mean to me. And I don’t want to keep pretending that I’m not completely in love with you.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and I can see the surprise and joy in them. You sit up, turning to face me fully. “Leah…”

I reach for your hand, holding it gently in mine. “I know we’ve been taking things slow, and I don’t want to rush anything. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… will you be my girlfriend?”

A smile spreads across your face, and your eyes sparkle with happiness. “Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “Yes, I will.”

I pull you into a tight embrace, my heart swelling with happiness. “I promise I’ll make you the happiest person alive,” I whisper.

You pull back slightly, looking into my eyes. “You already do,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity.

We share a tender kiss, sealing the promise of our future together.

[laterreurofficial]

does…. does Gabriel hold some sort of sway over the Dolls Magazine? Or like, own it? Originally, I thought some of the more grim stuff on the covers were just normal satire of early 2000's dieting and misogyny culture but with Estelle's cover having things like 'don't hide from Akuma attacks', Lila getting an exclusive, and Alya as 'the Lady blogger' being shown in not her best light I'm starting to think that Gabriel is purposely running some kind of psyop on the youth of Paris to deliberately make them more vulnerable both mentally and physically to akuma's. you're less likely to have the higher functions to think about resisting an akuma if your brain doesn't have the calories, I suppose. and like, Adrien's on every cover, which I first shrugged off as just him being famous but with how it's in the same spot each time I'm now starting to suspect that's intentional.

Also! I absolutely love everything about this AU! y'all have created something really amazing, everything from the writing to the art to the character studies are just perfect!

Lastly, I adore how the magazine is called Dolls. Idk if that's a real magazine brand you're satirizing or not, but it feels very apt considering the Senti-kids are essentially treated as just dolls for their creators/parents.

You got it! He's a shareholder and creative consultant for DOLLS, courtesy of his """good friend""" Mr. Caquet. Gabriel has amassed a looot of "good friends" who owe him one in some way or another.

The name DOLLS is based on the Australian teen mag DOLLY. Take a look at some of the older covers the tone is so flippant I love it.

It's really convenient for Hawkmoth when news outlets act ambivalent about holders or state conflicting guidelines on what to do during akuma "events" (you have to say "event" and not "attack"), because then it sows mistrust, and when people are confused they get scared and start to make bad decisions!

Then they get hurt more often, one thing leads to another and next thing you know it's been almost a year in the exclusion zone and the country is in shambles.

Sure, Ladybug and Co. always beat the akuma, but at the end of the day they're still stuck within arm's reach in a city Hawkmoth has full control over. Eventually they'll get tired or lose their homes or just... die.

He's patient. He'll wait.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Min Ho’s unexpected plus-one

Min Ho Moon x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Min Ho surprises his friends with a girlfriend, and they can’t believe she’s real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

If my heart beats any faster, I might actually pass out.

I smooth down my sweater for the hundredth time as Min Ho leads me toward the table where his friends—Dae, Q, and Kitty—are sitting. They’re deep in conversation, laughing at something I can’t hear, but the moment Min Ho clears his throat, all three heads turn in our direction.

“Guys,” Min Ho says, his voice casual but confident. “This is my girlfriend.”

Three pairs of eyes widen simultaneously.

“Girlfriend?!” Kitty is the first to react, nearly choking on her drink. She looks between us with the kind of shock I imagine she’d reserve for a major K-drama plot twist. “Did I miss something? Since when do you date?”

Min Ho sighs dramatically, placing a protective arm around my waist. “You all act like I was destined to be alone forever.”

Dae, who has been quiet up until now, finally blinks out of his stunned state. “I mean… kinda?” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not because there’s anything wrong with you! Just, you know, because Min Ho’s… Min Ho.”

I laugh, and Min Ho groans. “Wow. Amazing. So much faith in me.”

Q leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studies me. “Okay, but seriously. We need details. How did this happen?”

“Yeah, and how are you putting up with him?” Kitty chimes in, narrowing her eyes at Min Ho like she’s waiting for me to expose all his flaws.

Min Ho scoffs, pressing a hand to his chest. “You know, a normal reaction would be ‘Congratulations, Min Ho! We’re happy for you, Min Ho!’”

Dae shrugs. “We’re still processing.”

I decide to take pity on him. “Honestly, he just kind of grew on me.” I glance up at him with a teasing smile. “Like an expensive, annoyingly charming fungus.”

Kitty gasps in delight. “Oh, I love her.”

Q grins. “Yeah, she’s definitely keeping him humble.”

Dae finally smiles. “Okay, okay, I approve.” He looks at Min Ho. “But if you mess this up, you know we’re all taking her side, right?”

Min Ho sighs. “Obviously.”

I can’t help but laugh as Kitty gestures excitedly for me to sit next to her, already launching into a million questions. Min Ho might have been nervous about this introduction, but honestly? I think I just found my new favorite people.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As the night goes on, I settle into the group’s dynamic faster than I expected. Kitty is relentless with her questions, grilling me on everything from my favorite K-drama to my most embarrassing childhood story. Q is effortlessly charming, throwing in sarcastic quips that make Min Ho roll his eyes every five minutes. Dae, despite being the most reserved, gives me reassuring smiles that make it clear he’s warming up to me.

Min Ho stays close the whole time, his arm slung casually across the back of my chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against my shoulder. It’s subtle, but I can tell he’s still a little nervous, like he needs to make sure I’m okay. It’s sweet, really.

At one point, Kitty leans over and whispers, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”

“Like what?” I whisper back.

She glances at Min Ho, who’s currently bickering with Q over something ridiculous, then back at me with a knowing smile. “Soft.”

I feel my face warm, but before I can respond, Min Ho turns back to us. “What are you two conspiring about?”

Kitty just winks. “Nothing. Just girl talk.”

Min Ho narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, but before he can press further, Dae checks his phone and sighs. “I should probably head out. My dad’s expecting me home soon.”

Q stretches. “Yeah, me too. But this was fun. You’re officially part of the group now,” he says, giving me an approving nod.

Kitty grins. “Yeah, and don’t worry, we’ll make sure Min Ho treats you right.”

Min Ho scoffs. “She doesn’t need you guys for that. I’m an amazing boyfriend.”

I hum thoughtfully. “Debatable.”

Kitty bursts into laughter. “Oh yeah, I definitely like her.”

As we all say our goodbyes, Min Ho laces his fingers through mine and pulls me a little closer. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

I smile up at him. “Yeah, I think I love them too.”

He smirks. “Not more than you love me, though. Right?”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through my chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Min Ho grins. “I knew it.”

And just like that, I realize—being with him, being part of this? It feels exactly right.

[zvdvdlvr]

     His fingers traced the skin of your lower back, lulling you deeper into sleep. You hadn’t said anything in hours, listening to him talk to you. You weren’t really paying attention and he knew that.

     His heart beat steadily under your ear: the perfect drum to pair with his vocal cords. Your fingers carded through the short hair on the back of his neck. “Y/n?”

     When you hummed at his quiet call of your name, he took a pause before going on. “I am proud of you.” He patted your sides gently before resuming their mindless shape-drawing. “I know you don’t like when I say good things about you,” he exhales a chuckle, “but I will anyway. I know you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know you think you are a magnet of negativity but that’s not true, y/n.”

     You are awake now, the cloudy haze of sleep that had almost pulled you under had evaporated. Secretly you wished his words were true but the truth is: you were worried you would become selfish and cruel if you started to believe them. Hell, that was your biggest flaw: over-disciplining yourself because you think that’s the only way you could keep yourself from turning into the people you’d been raised to never become.

     “I see you wave at people who look sad. I see when you smile at babies- that real smile that usually makes them do their little baby giggle that just makes you smile more,” he rushes, hands resting on your sides. “I see you when you watch out for kids when they aren’t with their parents. Y/n. . .”

     Quiet, slow tears dripped down your cheeks as you hugged your other half tighter. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

     He smiles up at the ceiling at your raspy voice. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he shoots back. “You amaze me, y/n. You are a hard-working, persistent, talented person. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as stubborn or kind ad you.”

     “Stop it,” you say hoarsely. You turn your head and shove your face back into his shirt.

     He hums comfortably from under you. “I know you won’t agree with me now, but I’ll keep saying it. I’ll keep reminding you of how great you are,” he practically sings as he runs his large, warm hands up and down your side soothingly. “I’ll make you see yourself the way I see you- the way I’ll always see you…”

     He goes quiet for so long, the tears dry and you feel yourself falling asleep again.

     “As perfect as a human can be.“

[moanz111]

i stumbled upon this while scrolling and it's such a well-written post that i just had to share my thought on this too!

first of all, i've been a fanfic reader since i was very young so i know what it feels like to be on the other side. i've been anxious and nervous to reblog or write comments and have never even thought of messaging the authors i read and liked just because i was terrified of being perceived. but trust me, writers are so incredibly grateful for every little interaction they get. i know it can be nerve wracking but you will never be judged for what you have to say! every single piece of feedback and opinion i get means the whole world to me and every time i get a comment, a reblog or an ask makes me so happy, it seriously makes my whole day.

i've been on the writer side since summer 2023 and a couple of months ago i came back after an extremely long hiatus and was so scared and worried because almost a year had passed since i had last promised updates yet i had failed to come back due to many reasons. but then i saw that people still cared and even though i lost most of my readers from back when i first started writing, i was so happy to see that new people were getting interested and were actually willing to talk to me and share their feedbacks. so thank you, to those who have been doing that <3

i don't judge people who decide to stay silent but trust me, there's nothing to fear! writers don't bite, we're human too so of course, naturally we thrive off interactions too, just like anyone else. there isn't a barrier between the two groups - all of us are fans of the same things and share the same interests, this is always a two way relationship.

writing is my hobby and something i like doing but sometimes the silence is killing me especially after coming back from a hiatus 😭 i don't write for notes, i do it for my own enjoyment but still, hearing something nice about your works always feels good and validating!

and about the genres - i see too what's more read and what's popular but it's so sad to hear that authors force themselves to write something that they don't originally really want to just to have someone read their stories. every story is worth giving a chance and authors shouldn't be required to fit themselves into certain boxes just so people pay attention. no one can be forced to read anything of course but my whole point is to be kind to authors and give them a chance because sometimes you can find such gems when you least expect it.

of course, there will always be genres that are more generally liked but we need diversity too so please, writers do what you want and what you love - the right people will appreciate it.

and on that note...i've been mostly writing smaus/texts so i feel like like sometimes it's even harder to get feedback and i think these are not as read as before but i still think it's worth keeping even this genre alive just because it's so fun (at least to me).

i just hope our community here stays alive for longer and starts thriving because it's so sad to see so many people leave :(

just be brave, interact and encourage others to do so too! support your favourite writers because they all are amazing and deserve all the love in this world!

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[rosedustdreams]

Hey! I’ve been reading your Walker works and I need more from you lovely!

Would it be alright if I asked for a Walker x Reader where they do an interview together and he keeps being so obvious about his feelings for her? And like after the interview goes live, a bunch of fans make ship edits, and basically they’re just never beating the dating allegations?

If not it’s quite alright!! Just keep up the amazing work lovely!!

Not So Subtle

You weren’t nervous, not exactly. It was just a press interview, something you’d done countless times before. Still, being paired with Walker for this particular one had your pulse doing somersaults. Not because of the cameras or the audience, but because Walker couldn’t help himself when it came to you.

As the two of you settled into the studio chairs, the host greeted the audience with her signature enthusiasm, introducing you both and hyping up the upcoming season of the Percy Jackson show.

“So,” the host began, her grin playful, “you two have been spending a lot of time together on set. How’s that been?”

Walker immediately leaned forward, his elbow resting casually on his knee. “It’s been amazing,” he said, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, how could it not be? She’s kind of the best.”

Your face heated up, and you laughed nervously, trying to brush it off. “We have a great cast dynamic,” you said, keeping your tone light.

The host raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the subtle tension. “I see,” she said, drawing out the words. “And Walker, I have to ask—there’s a lot of buzz about how much you hype her up in interviews. Care to explain?”

Walker grinned, completely unbothered. “What can I say? She’s insanely talented. And hilarious. And, you know, just… easy to be around.”

You shot him a look, but he just shrugged, his grin turning slightly mischievous.

The host smirked, clearly loving every second of it. “Interesting. And what about you?” she asked, turning to you. “What’s it like working with Walker?”

“Oh, he’s great,” you said, doing your best to stay professional. “Super dedicated, really supportive. Definitely keeps things fun on set.”

“Fun how?” the host pressed, her tone teasing.

Walker jumped in before you could answer. “She’s laughing at me half the time,” he said, his tone playful. “I’m basically just a walking joke to her.”

“That’s not true!” you protested, laughing despite yourself.

“Oh, so you don’t think I’m funny?” he teased, leaning a little closer.

“I think you’re plenty funny,” you said, rolling your eyes.

The host looked between the two of you, her smile widening. “Okay, okay. I think I’m starting to see why fans love you two so much. The chemistry is very real.”

You both froze for half a second before laughing it off, though you could feel your cheeks heating up.

The rest of the interview passed in a blur, with Walker continuing to find small ways to tease you, compliment you, and generally make it impossible for you to escape the growing attention. By the time it ended, you were both smiling, though for very different reasons.

When the interview went live, it didn’t take long for the internet to explode. Within hours, TikTok was flooded with clips of the two of you, complete with dramatic zoom-ins, captions like "Walker is DOWN BAD," and edits set to romantic songs.

One particular video caught your attention: a slowed-down clip of Walker staring at you while you spoke, set to the lyrics of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” The caption read, “The way he looks at her 😭 they’re not beating the dating allegations fr.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is bad.”

Walker, who was sitting across from you in the trailer, leaned over to peek at your phone. When he saw the video, he just laughed.

“I mean,” he said, grinning, “it’s not that bad.”

You shot him a look. “Walker, they think we’re dating.”

He shrugged, utterly unfazed. “So?”

“So?” you repeated, incredulous. “You don’t care?”

“Not really,” he said, his tone casual. Then, after a beat, he added, “Unless… you do?”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “I just don’t want things to get weird.”

Walker tilted his head, his grin softening into something gentler. “It wouldn’t be weird. At least, not for me.”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes—something warm and steady and entirely too honest.

“Walker,” you began, but he cut you off with a small smile.

“Hey, relax,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t have to figure it out right now. But just so you know…” His smile turned playful again. “I’m not in a hurry to beat those allegations.”

Your cheeks burned, and you groaned again, but this time, there was a smile tugging at your lips.

Because maybe, just maybe, you weren’t in a hurry either.

A/N:i love this request so much thank u for requesting

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092, @shellsarepretty, @cheoriemoawa, @prettiesteyess,  @vintagewntr10, @hecallmebigpurrr420, @killualovbot, 

[hanzajesthanza]

the training montage in crossroads re-ignited a headcanon i had of geralt waking up and doing gymnastics, performing kickflips and mid-air spins around on a fencepost outside an hour before sunrise to ‘limber up,’ and bleary-eyed dandelion wrapping himself up in a blanket to be like "heyyy... what the hell are you doing 💖"

[jungkoode]

OFF-LABELS

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Mature, 18+, suggestive tones.

→ DATE POSTED: January 30, 2025.

→ NARRATED AUDIO:

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 2.6k

→ A/N: So. Listen. I was out there, freezing my ass off at the bus stop, cursing my life choices because why am I even going to the gym at ungodly hours??? And then—THEN—the bus just had the audacity to drive right past me. Love that. Amazing. Naturally, I did what any rational person would do: opened my notes app and started writing instead of using those 45 minutes to, idk, reconsider my entire existence. And thus, Off-Labels was born. This drabble? It’s about the kind of man who is dangerous in the most insidious way—intelligent, competent, and hiding behind a veneer of plausible deniability like it’s a damn art form. You know he knows what he’s doing to you. You know he’s aware of the effect he has. But can you prove it? No. Because he’s just so nice. So helpful. So unintentionally devastating to your nervous system. It’s honestly sick and twisted and exactly my type. Am I a menace? Absolutely. First installment in what might become a series because apparently I can't stop writing about competent men in medical settings using anatomical terms as foreplay. Will I be taking criticism? Absolutely not. ❤️‍🩹🩺

You don’t believe in stories like in books.

Sure, you like to read them—disappear into them, let them pull you under like a riptide until you forget about deadlines and midterms and the existential dread of being a twenty-something who still doesn’t know what they’re doing.

But that’s all they are.

Stories.

Fantasies about tragic, fated loves and brooding billionaires and dangerous men with wings. You like them because they’re not real. Because it’s fun to pretend, for a little while, that you’re the kind of girl who’s got a winged fae warrior at her feet. Or a CEO husband who calls her darling in an office with floor-to-ceiling windows. Or—God forbid—her hot math teacher, who lets her stay after class for extra lessons.

Or your brother’s best friend’s secret hookup.

Not that you’re thinking about that one.

Not that it would even be your case.

You shift on the couch, burying yourself deeper into the cocoon of your brother’s old hoodie. It’s massive on you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the faded fabric smelling like dust and detergent.

Perfect. The ideal uniform for an evening of doing absolutely nothing.

Your e-reader is dead, so you’ve resorted to flipping through some random paperback you found wedged under the coffee table, something with an aggressively shirtless man on the cover. You’re only half-paying attention, your eyes skimming over the words without really absorbing them.

Caleb should be home soon. Probably. He has class—or he says he has class, but you’re not entirely convinced. He’s in that phase of university where it’s mostly networking and group projects and going out more than actually studying.

Not that you care. He does his thing, you do yours.

A sharp knock at the door pulls you out of your haze.

You ignore it. Caleb has keys. If he forgot them, that’s his problem.

The knock comes again. Then the doorbell rings.

You groan, untangling yourself from the blanket and shuffling toward the door with all the grace of a sleep-deprived goblin. Your hair is a mess, your socks don’t match, and you’re fairly certain you have crumbs on your face from earlier. Good. Whoever’s on the other side can suffer.

Except—

It’s not Caleb.

It’s Hoseok.

Oh.

You freeze, hand still gripping the doorknob, brain buffering at the sight of him standing there, all easy confidence and warm eyes and—why does he always look so put together? It’s unfair. He’s in jeans and a hoodie, nothing special, but it fits him just right, and his hair is slightly tousled, like he just ran a hand through it, and—

Stop.

You force yourself to blink, to breathe, to act like a normal human person.

“Uh,” you say, which is a stellar start.

Hoseok smiles. “Hey.”

He has the kind of voice that makes people listen, rich and smooth, the kind that carries even when he’s speaking softly. Which he is now, like he knows you spook easily.

“Caleb’s not here,” you blurt out.

He tilts his head, amused. “Yeah, I figured.”

Right. Obviously. Because if Caleb were here, he’d be the one answering the door.

You scramble for something else to say, but your brain is blank, completely derailed by the fact that he’s here. In your doorway. Looking at you. And you must look insane—your hair sticking up in weird directions, drowning in a hoodie that is definitely not yours.

And he’s still smiling. Patient. Like he has all the time in the world.

You clear your throat, gripping the edge of the door. “Um. Did you—need something?”

Hoseok shifts, rocking back on his heels. “I was in the area. Thought I’d stop by, see if Caleb was around.” A pause. “And you, too.”

Your brain does an emergency reboot.

You, too.

You, too.

You swallow. “Oh. Right. Cool. That’s—cool.”

His smile twitches, like he’s holding back a laugh.

You want to throw yourself into traffic.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, ever-polite, ever-easygoing.

You should say no. Caleb’s not here, and even though Hoseok is Caleb’s best friend—and a genuinely nice person, thoughtful and reliable and the kind of guy who remembers your favorite coffee order—something about being alone with him makes your stomach twist.

But saying no would be weird.

So you step back. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

He steps inside, and suddenly the room feels smaller. Or maybe you’re just too aware of him—his presence, the faint scent of clean laundry and something warmer, something mellow. He’s always been like this, always drawn your attention whether you wanted him to or not.

You watch as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair like he’s been here a hundred times before. And he has, technically, but not like this. Not without Caleb.

Hoseok glances at the book on the coffee table. “Good?”

You stare at it, momentarily forgetting what book it even is. “Uh. Yeah.”

His eyes flick to the cover. His smile turns amused.

Heat floods your face.

"Interesting choice.”

You freeze. A slow, creeping horror slithers up your spine. Because you didn’t even look at the book before picking it up—you just grabbed whatever you had lying around, assuming it was something boring, something safe—

And now Hoseok is holding a novel titled My Professor’s Secret Temptation.

Oh.

Oh, you actually might be sick.

You scramble for something—anything—to say, but the words wedge themselves somewhere between your throat and your rapidly spiraling embarrassment.

Hoseok flips the book over, scanning the back cover with a curious hum. “Didn’t take you for the forbidden romance type.”

You want the ground to open up. You want to disintegrate.

“I—I didn’t even read it!” you blurt out, a little too fast, a little too desperate. “I wasn’t paying attention, I just grabbed something random, and—and it’s not—”

Hoseok glances at you, amused but not in a mean way, just…interested? "Oh, yeah?”

You nod. Aggressively. “Yes.”

His mouth presses into something thoughtful, like he believes you, but there’s still a flicker of amusement in his expression, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with this new information.

“Huh.” He flips through a few pages idly, head tilting. “He’s pretty bold, huh?”

Your stomach drops. “Who?”

“The professor.”

Your soul leaves your body.

You stare at him, mouth opening and closing, incapable of forming a coherent thought.

Hoseok just nods, easy, unbothered. “Some of these lines are intense,” he muses, flipping another page. “Do real professors talk like this?”

You are going to die. Right here. On the floor.

“I—” Your voice cracks. “I don’t know.”

He hums again, like he’s genuinely considering it, then—just as casually as everything else—he looks up and says, “You think he’s hot?”

Your heart stops.

Not in a teasing way. Not in a mean way. Just…like it’s a normal question. Like this is just an easy, natural conversation between two people who absolutely do not need to be having this conversation.

Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Hoseok’s lips twitch, but it’s not a smirk, not a knowing smile—just quiet amusement, like this whole situation is genuinely kind of funny, and he doesn’t think it’s a big deal at all.

“Relax,” he says, closing the book with a soft thump. “I won’t tell Caleb.”

It’s so casual. So reassuring.

Like he really, really isn’t trying to mess with you.

Which somehow makes it worse.

Hoseok sets the book down with deliberate care, spine aligned parallel to the edge of the coffee table like he’s arranging museum artifacts. Your traitorous eyes track the flex of tendons in his wrist—medical intern hands, steady and precise, the kind that’ve probably held beating hearts in ORs. You bite the inside of your cheek until copper blooms.

He glances at the sofa.

You glance at the sofa.

Three cushions. Two throw pillows. Seventy-two inches of fabric that suddenly feels like the Grand Canyon between acceptable and catastrophic.

“Mind if I…?” He gestures to the spot beside your abandoned blanket nest, already moving before you nod.

The springs creak faintly as he sinks into the middle cushion, thighs spreading in that effortless way men do—knees wide, elbows propped, phone balanced on his lap. You sit next to him—two cushions away—and watch his thumb scroll through messages, the screen’s blue light catching the silver ring he always wears on his index finger. Surgical steel, he’d told you once when you’d asked. Sterile. Practical.

Practical.

Practical like the way his left knee now brushes the edge of your blanket. Practical like the faint cedar-and-disinfectant scent of his cologne. Practical like the half-inch of skin exposed when his hoodie rides up as he stretches his arms behind his head.

Don’t look.

You look.

Stop looking.

He shifts, a subtle roll of his hips that has no business being this distracting. The movement pulls the denim taut across his thighs, and you try—really, genuinely try—to keep your eyes anywhere else. The ceiling. The floor. The stack of medical textbooks by the TV. Anything but the way his thumb now absently traces the inner seam of his jeans.

“Told Caleb I’d wait,” he says, tilting his head toward you. The motion makes his throat work—Adam’s apple bobbing, chin catching gold in the lamplight. “Movie night. You’re welcome to join, if you want.”

Your tongue feels like it’s been replaced with felt. “I—I have… readings.”

“Readings.” His mouth shapes the word like it’s fascinating.

“For… neuroanatomy.” You gesture vaguely toward your backpack slumped by the TV stand, half-buried under a sweatshirt you’ve been using as a pillow. “Midterm next week.”

He hums, low and considering. “Limbic system?”

“Hippocampus. Amygdala. All the… emotional bits.”

“Ah.” His smile softens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “The parts that make you want to throw textbooks at walls.”

You blink. “You… remember?”

“Your first-year meltdown over the cranial nerves? Yeah.” He chuckles, warm and rasping. “You called them ‘twelve little traitors’ and threatened to switch to art history.”

Heat crawls up your neck. You’d forgotten he’d been there that night—Caleb dragging him along for a pizza run, finding you knee-deep in flashcards and tears. Hoseok had quietly made tea while Caleb joked about selling your cadaver lab notes on eBay.

“Still think about it sometimes,” you mutter, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “Art history sounds peaceful. No one dies in art history.”

“No,” he agrees. “But you’d miss this.”

“Miss what? The sleep deprivation? The existential dread?”

“The way your nose scrunches when you’re trying to memorize Brodmann areas.”

Your hands freeze.

He’s looking at you now—not the performative eye contact of someone making conversation, but the kind that pins you in place. Clinical. Observant. Like he’s cataloging your reaction.

“I don’t… scrunch,” you say weakly.

“You do.” His knee nudges the blanket again. Accidentally. Probably. “It’s cute.”

The air conditioner kicks on. You count the vents in the ceiling. Eight. Eight is a safe number. Eight is not the number of times you’ve imagined him saying that word in different contexts.

Cute.

Cute.

Cute.

Your lungs forget how to oxygenate.

Hoseok’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, then sighs. “Caleb’s running late. Some study group thing.”

“Oh.”

“You hungry?”

“What?”

He’s already standing, rolling his shoulders in a stretch that pulls his hoodie taut across his chest. “I’ll make ramyeon. You like the kimchi kind, right?”

You stare.

He’s in your kitchen now, rummaging through cabinets with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times. Which he has—game nights, birthday parties, that one time Caleb got food poisoning and Hoseok stayed over to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.

But this is different.

This is him pulling two bowls from the shelf you can’t reach without a step stool. This is him filling the kettle with exactly 500ml of water because he knows your stove runs hot. This is him glancing over his shoulder to ask, “Soft or firm noodles?” like it’s a question that matters.

“Soft,” you croak.

He nods, turning back to the counter. You watch his hands—capable, unhurried—tearing seasoning packets with his teeth. The steam fogs his glasses when he leans over the pot, and he pushes them up into his hair, revealing the faint scar bisecting his left eyebrow.

Bike accident, he’d said when you’d asked. Twelve years old. Thought he could jump the curb like X-Games.

You’d dreamed about that scar for weeks afterward.

“Here.” He sets the bowl in front of you, chopsticks balanced across the rim. “Careful, it’s hot.”

You murmur thanks, staring at the swirling red broth. He sits closer this time—one cushion away instead of two. His knee brushes yours when he leans forward to blow on his noodles.

Accident, you tell yourself. Always accidents.

The TV murmurs in the background, some nature documentary about deep-sea creatures. Hoseok asks about your classes, and you answer in staccato sentences, hyper-aware of the way his sleeve brushes your arm when he reaches for the water glass.

“—and Dr. Park’s lectures are killing me,” you hear yourself say, chopsticks hovering over uneaten noodles. “She goes so fast, and the diagrams…”

“Want me to quiz you?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

He shrugs, but there’s a glint in his eye—the same one he gets when Caleb challenges him to Mario Kart. “I aced neuro last year. Could walk you through the basal ganglia.”

“You’re… busy.”

“Not really.” He sets his bowl aside, rolling up his sleeves. Your pulse thrums at the reveal of his forearms—dusting of dark hair, veins mapping paths you shouldn’t be tracing. “C’mon. Hit me with your worst.”

It’s a mistake.

You know it’s a mistake even as you fetch your notes, even as he pats the space beside him. Even as his shoulder presses against yours, radiating heat through three layers of fabric.

“Okay.” He scans your color-coded flashcards. “First question. What structure connects the hippocampus to the mammillary bodies?”

“F-fornix,” you stammer.

“Good.” His finger taps the next card. “Main neurotransmitter in the substantia nigra?”

“Dopamine.”

“And loss of dopamine here causes…”

“Parkinson’s.”

“Nice.” He shifts, knee pressing into yours. “Now point to your amygdala.”

You freeze. “What?”

“On your head. Show me where it is.”

“I—it’s—it’s medial temporal lobe, so…” You hover a hand near your right temple, acutely aware of his gaze tracking the movement. “Here? Ish?”

His chuckle vibrates through the couch. “Ish.”

“Shut up, I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

You glare at him. He grins back, all white teeth and crinkled eyes, and something in your chest cracks open.

“Medial,” he says softly, reaching over to adjust your hand. His fingers graze your wrist—brief, clinical, devastating. “Deeper. Protected.”

You stop breathing.

The documentary narrator drones on about bioluminescent jellyfish. Hoseok’s thumb brushes your pulse point.

Accident.

Always accidents.

Then his phone rings.

You jerk back like you’ve been shocked. Hoseok answers with a calm, “Yeah?” while you stare at your knees, pretending your entire nervous system isn’t short-circuiting.

“Caleb’s downstairs,” he says, standing. “Forgot his keys again.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

He pauses, head tilted. For a horrifying moment, you think he’ll call you out—on the shaking hands, the flushed cheeks, the way you’re clinging to a pillow like it’s a life raft.

But he just smiles. Gentle. Endless. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

You collapse sideways onto the couch, pressing your face into the cushion that still holds the warmth of him. Somewhere in the hallway, the elevator dings. Laughter floats up from the parking lot.

Four years.

Four years of this.

Four years of almosts and maybes and don’t be stupid, he’s just being nice.

Your phone buzzes. A text from Caleb:

𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐?? 𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚍. 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎?

You type no with trembling fingers.

The couch creaks as you curl into yourself, knees to chest, forehead pressed against the spot where his ring had left a faint indentation in the upholstery.

Deeper.

Protected.

Somewhere in your medial temporal lobe, dopamine fires for all the wrong reasons.

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook

© 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[giggle-guru]

Hahaha you’ve asked for it! Hopefully you’re not too sensitive otherwise Jax is going to be exploiting it 👀 This will be the last audio until I’m back from my tournament so hopefully this and my last one will feed you in the meantime! I used a new Jax voice but it’s kind of high, I’m thinking of changing it but we’ll see. That’s tomorrow’s problem haha.

This was made for @weregonnaneedabiggerboat because their art?? Hello?? Top tier. Just look at the cover art made by them! Incredible! Go check them out.

Script is below the cut!!! Hehehehe

[Visual Note: Listener sits within their room in the Amazing Digital Circus, reading a book and relaxing on their bed. It was after yet another one of Caine’s wild adventures, and they are enjoying the peace and quiet. Of course, that wouldn’t last long with Jax around.]

[Audio Note: Knocking on door]

Jax: [calling out] Heya Bunny. You in there? Actually, dunno why I’m asking. Of course you’re in there. Open up.

[Visual Note: Listener makes no noise nor any effort to open the door as they continue reading.]

Jax: [sarcastic] What, giving me the silence treatment now, are we? Rude. I’m coming in anyway.

[Audio Note: Door opening, footsteps]

Jax: [scoffing] Oh, so this is what’s more important than answering me? A damn book? Lame. Give that to me.

[Visual Note: Jax takes the book from the Listener's hands, ignoring their protests.]

Jax: [eyebrow raised] What is this about anyway? Wait, wait, wait, let me guess. Some cheesy romance? That seems like something you’d be into. [glancing over some of the words] Give it back? Sure. If you can reach it. Oh, come on, Bunny. You gotta put in a little more effort than that. I mean, really, that jump was pathetic.

[Visual Note:Listener jumps higher on the bed, stumbling slightly in an effort to get the book]

Jax: [grinning] Pfft, careful, wouldn’t want you tripping and falling flat on your face. Not that I’d complain—I’d get a good laugh outta it. Ooh, so close. If only you weren’t so short, eh?

[Visual Note: Listener snatches the book with a huff and lays back in the bed, muttering under their breath.]

Jax: [mock gasp] Oh, look at you, all determined and feisty. Cute. But was it worth it? Let’s see…[pushing the book towards the Listener to read the cover] “A Love Across Dimensions”?! Pfft–okay, okay, this is too good. Lemme guess. Forbidden lovers, tragic separation, longing stares?

[Audio note: Bed squeak]

[Visual Note: Jax jumps to lay onto the bed beside the Listener as they glare at him]

Jax: [grinning] Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’re just proving my point. You totally eat this sappy stuff up, don’tcha?

[Audio Note: Page turning sporadically]

[Visual Note: Listener turns the page, ignoring Jax]

Jax: [feigned offence] Wow. Once again. Ignored. Just like that? After all the trouble I went through to come see ya, this is the thanks I get? [dramatic sigh] Man, you really know how to break a guy’s heart, Bunny. First, the silent treatment. Now, total disregard? I might just cry. [pause] Alright, since you’re so clearly invested in this, how ‘bout you tell me what it’s about? What makes this mushy-gushy, star-crossed whatever so good?

[Visual Note: Listener continues reading, pretending Jax isn’t there]

Jax: [smirking[ You know, if you don’t start talking soon, I might just have to start reading it to myself…out loud. [clears throat dramatically] “His gaze met hers across the endless void–”

[Visual Note: Listener hits him with a pillow]

[Audio Note: Pillow smack]

Jax: [laughing] Woah! Alright, alright! Guess I hit a nerve, huh? Didn’t take you for the aggressive type. But I finally got a reaction out of you. Knew you couldn’t keep sitting there ignoring me forever.

[Visual Note: Listener finally gives a brief, deadpan response.]

Jax: [Mock offense] Ouch. “Go away”? That’s all I get? And here I thought we were bonding. You wound me, Bunny. Really.

[Audio Note: Bed squeak]

[Visual Note: Jax flops onto his back dramatically.]

Jax: [slight pout] I hope you’re happy. I’m here bleeding out and you’re just sitting there. [glances at them] Wow. Nothing. You’re real stubborn today. You know, I could leave you to your overly dramatic romance novel…Or I could just stay right here and keep bothering you. [begins poking Lisenets side] Go ahead. See how long you can keep reading when I’m-

[Visual Note: Listener jerks away]

Jax: [slight confusion] Woah, Bunny. A little dramatic of a reaction there. I barely touched you. What’s with the ju mp? Eh? [pause, realization] Hold up…That wasn’t just annoyance. That was a reaction. [pokes Listener’s side again] Ohhh, no way–don’t tell me…[mischevious] Aww…is someone ticklish? [wiggles fingers threateningly]

[Audio Note: Bed squeaking]

[Visual Note: Listener moves to hide their face with the book]

Jax: [grinning] Oh-ho, Bunny, you’ve really done it now. You think you can just hide behind that book and I’ll forget? Nah, nah, you just made this way more fun for me.

[Visual Note: Jax suddenly pokes Listener’s side again, dragging out another involuntary twitch]

Jax: [mock gasp] Oh, this is golden. Come on, Bunny, just admit it. You’re ticklish, aren’t you?

[Visual Note: Listener shakes their head furiously, refusing to give in]

Jax: Ohhh, you’re really gonna play it like that? Fine. Have it your way.

[Audio Note: Rustling fabric, bed squeaking]

[Visual Note: Jax suddenly lunges, pinning the book down and launching a full-on tickle attack on Listener’s sides causing them to burst into laughter, squirming to escape]

Jax: [mock evil laughter] Ah-ha! You’re so done for now, Bunny! What happened to all that stubborn silence, huh?

[Visual Note: Listener continues laughing, trying to push Jax away]

Jax: [teasing] Oh, what’s that? You want me to stop? Hmm… I dunno. I’m kinda having way too much fun right now. Besides, we’ve barely even begun. What, you thought you could get away with not saying anything? Nah, I’m gonna hear you say it. Say you’re ticklish. Come on, Bunny say it.

[Visual Note: Listener attempts to say something, but is cut off by their own giggling]

Jax: [teasing] Nope, nope, nope. Not good enough. You gotta try harder than that Bunny. Come on, say it. I’m not going to stop until you say it. Come on, you’re really trying to hold out on me? That’s sweet and all, but it ain’t gonna work! You just have to tell me [pulls Listener into his lap] you’re [pins their arms] ticklish [digs into their underarms]. Just let me hear you say it.

[Visual Note: Listener finally manages to squeal out that they’re ticklish]

Jax: [gleefully] There it is! Finally, that wasn’t too hard was it Bunny? See, now we can have some real fun and figure out exactly where you’re most ticklish. Way more fun then that stupid sappy book. Where should I start? Huh?

[Visual Note: Listener tries to escape]

Jax: [grinning] Oh, Bunny, you’re not getting out of this that easy. I know there’s more. Maybe here—?

[Visual Note: Jax playfully squeezes their knee causing a squeal]

Jax: [laughing] What was that? Bingo! I knew it. Looks like someone’s got ticklish knees too!

[Visual Note: Listener writhes in his lap, attempting to wiggle free]

Jax: [laughing] Where ya going, huh? You’re trapped now! Shoulda just kept talking to me from the start, Bunny. But nooo, you had to be stubborn. And now look at you—completely at my mercy.

[Visual Note: Listener manages to shove at Jax weakly, still giggling breathlessly]

Jax: [teasingly sarcastic] Oh? Now you wanna fight back? Pfft. Adorable. But come on, Bunny, let’s be real—you’re losing this battle. Now let’s see…should I try your ribs? Tummy? Or maybe—oh! I know. The feet.

[Visual Note: Listener lets out a muffled noise of protest, curling up defensively]

Jax: [laughing] Ohhh, now that’s interesting! That little reaction just told me everything I need to know. You got something to hide, Bunny? Hm?

[Visual Note: Jax shifts, acting like he’s about to go for their feet, dragging out the anticipation]

Jax: [smirking] This is too good. You’re really nervous now, huh? I mean, I could just let you go, be all nice and merciful… but, honestly? This is way too much fun.

[Visual Note: Listener bursts into even more uncontrollable laughter as Jax strikes, thrashing to escape]

Jax: [mock evil] Ah-ha! Jackpot! That’s the spot, isn’t it? Oh, Bunny, you’re so doomed now.

[Visual Note: Listener, now out of breath, manages to plead for mercy]

Jax: [grinning] What’s t his? The mighty Bunny, finally surrendering? Begging even? Man, this is almost too satisfying.

[Visual Note: Listener laughing and pleading]

Jax: [laughing] This is too good! You’re this ticklish and you thought you could hide it from me? Oh, Bunny, that was your first mistake.

[Listener begs still, and Jax dramatically sighs, finally stopping, letting Listener catch their breath]

Jax: [smiling] Alright, alright. I’ll let ya off the hook… for now. But you better believe I’m keeping this little secret locked in my brain forever. Oh yeah, Bunny, you’re never living this down.

[Visual Note: Listener shoots him a glare and tells him off, still flustered]

Jax: [snickering] Ohhh, you’re threatening me now? That’s adorable, Bunny. Really. But let’s be real… we both know you’re too worn out to do anything.

[Visual Note: Listener catches their breath, rolling off of Jax]

Jax: [sighs] Welp, I’d say that was a great use of my time. Way better than reading some tragic lovey-dovey nonsense.

[Visual Note: Listener groans]

Jax: Oh, don’t act like you’re mad. You totally had fun.

[Visual Note: Listener suddenly gives him a look]

Jax: [brow raised] Huh? What are you looking at me like that for? Woah. Woah, wait, don’t you dare get any ideas– [nervous chuckle] Heh. Alright, Bunny, let’s just—uh—calm down, yeah? No need to do anything rash.

[Audio Note: Bed creaking, sheets rustling]

[Visual Note: Listener suddenly lunges at Jax and pins him down]

Jax: HEY—! [mock offense] EXCUSE me?! Where did this come from? I don’t remember teaching you to be so bold, Bunny!

[Visual Note: Listener smirks, wiggling their fingers over him]

Jax: [eyes widen] Oh. Oh, no. Ohhh, no-no-no—

[Visual Note: Listener pokes his side experimentally]

Jax: [jerks] HEY! Okay, okay, let’s—let’s talk about this! We can be reasonable, yeah?

[Visual Note: Listener shakes their head, grin widening]

Jax: [strained laugh] Come on, Bunny, let’s just—Wait, wait, wait—!

[Visual Note: Listener strikes]

Jax: [yelps] AH—! You—! Pfft— okay—alright—! T-Time out! Time out!

Jax: [laugihng] Bunny, I swear—! T-This—this is against the rules! [BLEEP]

[Visual Note: Listener tilts their head mockingly, clearly enjoying their revenge]

Jax: PFFT— Ohhh, don’t give me that innocent look! Y-You know exactly what you’re doing you [BLEEP]!

[Visual Note:Jax squirms under Listener’s relentless attack]

Jax: Alright, alright—! Truce! I said truce!

[Visual Note: Listener pauses, raising an eyebrow as if considering it]

Jax: [panting] Hah… okay… we’re good now, yeah? No more funny business?

[Visual Note: Listener smirks, fingers twitching threateningly]

Jax: [nervous chuckle] Bunny. Bunny. Let’s be civil—No wait—!

[Visual Note: Listener tickles him again, getting back at him fully]

Jax: [laughing hysterically] PFFT—! Okay—Fine—! I give! I give you menace!

[Visual Note: Listener finally stops, sitting back triumphantly as Jax gasps for breath]

Jax: [still laughing lightly] Hah… wow. Didn’t think you had that in you. I might actually be proud.

[Visual Note: Listener gives a smug look]

Jax: [grinning] Ohhh, now you’re just basking in it, huh? Look at you, all smug.

[Visual Note: Listener nods, still looking victorious]

Jax: [mock scoff] Tch. Unbelievable. One little victory and suddenly you think you run the place.

[Visual Note: Listener shrugs, casually flipping open their book again]

[Audio Note: Pages turning sporadically once again]

Jax: [raising an eyebrow] So that’s how it is? Just gonna ignore me now? After all that?

[Visual Note: Listener smirks but doesn’t respond]

Jax: [dramatic sigh] Wow. No loyalty. No respect. I get bested one time, and suddenly I don’t even exist anymore.

[Visual Note: Jax flops dramatically onto the bed beside Listener]

Jax: [muttering] This is what betrayal feels like…

[Visual Note: Listener rolls their eyes, nudging him lightly]

Jax: [grinning] Ah-ha! A reaction. Knew you couldn’t resist me for long, Bunny. Now then, you wanna read that book so bad? Then you better be reading out loud. [closes eyes] I’m listening.

[Visual Note: Listener huffs, clearly not giving in]

Jax: [grinning] Alright, fine. If you won’t read to me, then I guess I’ll just have to…

[Visual Note: Sudden movement as Jax leans in way too close, chin practically resting on Listener’s shoulder]

Jax: [smug] Read it over your shoulder instead.

[Visual Note: Listener stiffens, turning their head to glare at him]

Jax: [grinning wider] Ohhh, what’s this? Flustered? What happened to all that confidence, Bunny?

[Visual Note: Listener groans, pushing him away, but Jax just flops right back down beside them]

Jax: [sighs, feigning patience] Look, I’ll even be nice. You pick what part to read. But if you don’t… I will start guessing what happens next, and trust me, I’ve got some wild theories. [clearing throat dramatically] “As they stared longingly across the forbidden rift between worlds, his voice trembled with emotion—‘My love… I have waited centuries for this moment…’”

[Visual Note: Listener smacks him with a pillow again]

[Audio Note: Pillow smack]

Jax: [laughing] Hey! That was beautiful! You don’t appreciate real art, Bunny.

[Visual Note: Listener sighs heavily, finally giving in and flipping back a few pages before hesitantly starting to read out loud]

Jax: [grinning, settling in] There we go. That’s the spirit.

[imkinddassus]

Soooooo

Your thoughts on chapter 4?

I can tell you liked the Catnap and DogDay plushie interaction.

I love this idiots, don't judge me >:[

I know people gonna hate for this but chapter 4 really didn't sit right for me, for me it's like a rollercoaster ride, at one point I like it! The visual, the horror elements. BUT THERE'S TO MUCH DAMN MISS POTENTIAL! LIKE LITERALLY!

Spoiler ahead!

I know yarnaby was going to die at one point but looking back at his death, it was hilarious to me and idk why😭, pianosaurs was a waste too. They hype it out like it's some kind of character with worth only to get killed by doey after being introduced. The Omni hand.. whatever that is has the same mechanic as the red and blue hand... Just redesigns I guess.

And don't even get me started with Harley Sawyer.

But out of all that, I love save haven, the vibe is there and the small little critters are just UGHH! Also I fuckin love how they present doey to us, his character is so fleshed out and so amazing in ways I couldn't describe. His death has been the most brutal way the player had ever done- because his story was fleshed out, the player had time to connect with this character and when killing them off would gave a big impact.. ehem pianosaurs.... Anyways that's all I think I can talk about chapter 4, it wasn't peak in my opinion.. but I guess it's alright.

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 22

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food and eating, depiction of an anxiety attack

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: ♡PENED

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,972

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 21

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing this chapter so soon but on of you sent me a ko-fi and it kinda motivated me to get this chapter done and out.

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You flip through the menu for the fifth time trying to figure out what to eat. Hyunjin and Wonseok happily chat along in their own little world about some art movement—you lost the plot of their conversation ages ago when they started about a specific type of paint and technique that you’re not even going to try to pronounce. Changbin sits across from you, absent-mindedly fiddling with his menu and nodding to the ongoing conversation.

“Are we boring you so much that you’re just going through the menu? Again?” Wonseok asks suddenly.

“I don’t know what to eat,” You grumble quietly.

Wonseok reaches over and turns a few pages in your menu. When he finds the page he's looking for he traces the page with his finger until he lands on one of the menu items. "They have fish and chips right here."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd take us to an actual restaurant. I can't order fish and chips while the three of you order...whatever you're going to order. It's like if I went to a restaurant back home and just ordered tteok-bokki...or if we were in the States and I got chicken tenders and fries." You gently push Wonseok's hand away from you and roll your eyes.

Wonseok pulls back his hand and brings it to his temples, almost as if he's starting to get a headache. "This is probably the only time I'm going to get to treat professional idols to a meal, I'm not just going to give them street food. Just order what you really want to eat because you're not going to be able to order fish and chips for dinner at the place we're going to. I don't want to hear you complain about not eating what you wanted for the rest of my life."

You huff out a 'fine' as you close your menu and set it to the side. Your eyes land on Changbin who is quietly scribbling something on a piece of paper that seems to have materialized. You quietly shake your head and turn your attention to Hyunjin who is looking between you and Wonseok, thinking hard about something.

"You know, Wonnie, Hyunjin is an amazing artist." You pull up your broken arm from resting on your lap. "He's the one who drew all over my cast. He posts some of his stuff on his Instagram. He's probably even carrying around his sketchbook in that tote bag of his..."

"Ah, noona..." Hyunjin's voice trails off as he scratches the back of his neck. You can't see his ears under his hat but you can almost imagine how red they're getting.

Wonseok takes your broken arm and carefully examines the doodles and drawings on your cast. Most of them are flowers and plants. Occasionally, there are little characters like the BbokAri he drew next to Felix's message and the puppy next to Seungmin's. There's hardly any room left for anyone else to write anything. Before you forbade any of the members from hanging out with you without someone else there, Hyunjin would find his way to you when he was bored and draw on your arm.

"Wow, these are amazing, Hyunjin! Do you mind if I look at your sketchbook?"

Your arm is returned to you as Wonseok and Hyunjin get wrapped up in yet another art-filled conversation. Changbin is still focused on his piece of paper, scribbling away. Part of you wishes you could pull out the small tablet you brought with you so you could work on editing photos on the ride to the gallery. But you know that'll only cause Wonseok to scold you for working when you're not supposed to. If you could offer more thought to Wonseok and Hyunjin's conversation that isn't just regurgitated garbage from your first-year introduction to art history course that you took back in university, then you could easily join in their conversation.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you sit up a bit straighter in your seat and rest your chin in your good hand. "What are you so focused on writing there Changbin?"

There's a moment of silence between the two of you. He pauses writing but you're not sure if he heard you or is thinking of what to write.

"Lyrics," He mumbles so softly that you almost miss it amongst the noise that is Wonseok and Hyunjin chattering loudly beside you.

"Did you get an idea just now?" You perk up in your seat a bit. "Can...can I see? I won't write about it. It's all off the record."

Changbin's head stays low, focusing on writing his lyrics. It's only now that you're reminded of his inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. The fact that he answered you earlier is strange and probably the most he can do.

You watch him silently as he works. You take note of all of the little things you see. Like the way his brows twitch as he tries not to furrow then while he scribbles something out. Or how the fingers on his nondominant hand dance on the table while his head subtly bops along to a rhythm only known to him. Whether he's simultaneously creating a beat in his head while he works or he's remembering a song that one of the other members of 3racha made is another unknown factor that you wish you knew the answer to. You notice the way he mouths out the words he's writing to himself and how quickly he presses his lips together and shakes his head when it appears to not flow correctly. You can only imagine that this is what it was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel; hypotonic.

You only break out of your trance when your server comes to the table and takes your order, something that neither you nor Changbin noticed until Wonseok and Hyunjin told you. And that's when Changbin finally looked up and caught you staring at him, forcing you to look away as heat rose to your face. Wonseok took advantage of the situation and ordered your food for you before you could change your mind.

After lunch, the four of you decided to walk around London for a bit. When you were working with Han and Seungmin yesterday, you made sure to avoid the more populated and obvious tourist areas, only capturing notable landmarks in the distant background. With more freedom to explore, you all head to the more touristy areas so Hyunjin and Changbin can blend in more seamlessly.

As you walk along the crowded streets, the earlier pain you felt inside the art galley quickly comes back. You're paying less attention to the conversation between Wonseok and Hyunjin and more to your surroundings. Despite the cool day, you feel suffocatingly hot. Almost like something is sucking all of the air out of your lungs.

"...Y/n!"

You snap out of whatever daze you're in at the sound of Wonseok's worried voice. You glance up to meet three concerned faces watching you carefully.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Your voice is thick is unsteady as you're unable to meet any of their eyes.

"Are you okay? You're walking slowly. I thought we lost you in the crowd for a moment there."

You swallow hard as you try to settle your rapidly beating heart. "I think I ate too much earlier. My stomach hurts."

"You look kind of pale, noona," Hyunjin chimes in. "Maybe we should head back to the hotel?"

You wave Hyunjin off quickly. "N-no, it's okay. I just need a moment."

"I'll go get you some water." Wonseok's voice softens with a gentle tone as he looks around for a shop.

Hyunjin places one hand on Wonseok's shoulder, stopping him from trying to look through the crowd. He pulls his bucket hat off with his other hand, gaining a clear view of the area. "We've been here a few times. I think I know where there's a shop nearby. I'll help you find it, hyung."

"Okay, thank you. Changbin, are you okay watching Y/n?" Wonseok asks the younger man.

Too focused on the unsettling feeling growing through your body, you don't notice that Changbin's already watching you. He's been silently keeping an eye on you since you started to fall behind on your walk. Had Wonseok waited a second longer to notice you, Changbin would have said something to bring their attention to you.

"I got her," He says simply.

With that, Hyunjin tosses something at Changbin and leads Wonseok forward through the crowd. Changbin quietly pulls you off to the side away from the crowd, under the shade of a tree. You mumble out what you hope is a 'thank you,' and focus on Changbin's shoes. They're white sneakers a blue stripe going through them. Subconsciously, you start to count the small holes near the end of the shoe while you place your hand on your chest. You feel your heart beating rather quickly like it's beating a little too hard and might give out at any moment. You apply as much pressure with your hand and take deep, unsteady breaths as you try to calm your heart.

You feel something cover your head, partly obstructing your vision and muffling the outside noise. You look back up at Changbin who is now adjusting Hyunjin's bucket hat that he put on your head.

"Professional idol secret," His words come slowly as he continues to fix the rim around the hat. "A lot of us don't do well in crowds so we wear bucket hats to block out the noise and the view a bit. Fans think we wear them to hide our hair for comebacks, but most of the time it's to protect our sanity."

You swallow dryly, unable to wet your suddenly parched throat. "I go to concerts and fan signs for a living. I do well in crowds."

Changbin crouches down so you can see him under the protection of the bucket hat, a tender smile warms his whole face. It's the first time you've seen him smile since the gallery. "In the past, yeah, but...you have the same expression on your face that you've been getting when we're at the airport lately. You kind of look like Hannie when he's having an anxiety attack."

"I don't have anxiety attacks," You're not sure if you're telling Changbin or reassuring yourself. You can't remember a single moment in your life where you've had an anxiety attack. So why would you start now?

"Okay," Changbin nods before standing up straight again, your view of him is once again obstructed by the hat. He gently takes your hand off of your chest and places it on his own. "At the very least, match my breathing. You sound like you just ran a marathon and I can't help you if you pass out. I don't know cpr."

The two of you stand there for a moment. Changbin's hand is firmly on yours as he keeps it on his chest. You have no choice but to match his breathing by following the steady rising and falling of his chest. You can feel the subtle, yet rapid thuds of his heart beating in his chest despite how calm he is.

Slowly, but surely, your own breathing falls into its own steady rhythm and the strange feeling in your body dissipates. You're not exactly sure how long the two of you stand like that, but eventually you drop your hand from his chest and Changbin let's you.

"Better?"

You slowly nod your head. Most of your discomfort is gone, but you still feel jittery. Almost as if you injected straight caffeine into your bloodstream. "Yeah, I just need to sit down."

Changbin doesn't ask further questions and instead leads you to the small grassy area near the tree and urges you to sit. He joins you on the grass, falling back into silence. Now that you're relatively back to normal, you can't help but avoid looking at Changbin. You're more thankful for the hat now that it can help you avoid his gaze.

The two of you sit there in silence for a few more minutes before Wonseok and Hyunjin find you. Hyunjin is about to question why you're wearing his hat before Changbin stands up and pulls Hyunjin to the side for a moment to talk to him.

Wonseok takes one of the empty spots beside you and rummages through the plastic bag he brought back with you. He pulls out a water bottle and a small metal tin and hands them to you. "I watched a TikTok ages ago and a doctor on there said that mint is supposed to be good for an upset stomach."

"Thank you," You smile tiredly at Wonseok.

Hyunjin and Changbin make their way back to you. Hyunjin takes the other open spot next to you while Changbin sits on the other side of him. They're quiet for a moment while you continue to drink your water and eat the mints that Wonseok bought. Wonseok passes out the other water bottles from his bag to Hyunjin and Changbin.

Surprisingly, Changbin breaks the silence first, asking if the store that Wonseok and Hyunjin went to was crowded. Then the conversation shifted to what everyone planned to do later. Wonseok tells them about your now tentative dinner plans, which leads to an argument. You change the subject to see what the newlywed couple of the group had planned. The conversation shifts again, this time to souvenirs that all of you want to get. Which of course leads to another teasing argument that ends with Wonseok trying to make you spill water on yourself.

"You two are such a cute couple. How long hav--"

You choke on your water as Hyunjin's words catch you off guard and trickle down the wrong pipe. Wonseok has his own visceral reaction, one that you don't see but you can hear the sound of him gagging at the question. Still, Wonseok slaps your back to help you get the water out.

"We--are not--dating." You choke out as you try to regain your composure.

"Y/n is like my little sister," Wonseok adds as he drops his hand back to his side.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin have confused expressions as they watch the two of you. Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth like a fish as he lets out confused babbles. "Sorry, I just thought...you two are...when..."

"Wonseok hyung is older than you but you two talk casually. Plus you're so close." Changbin says finally. Hyunjin shuts his mouth and nods quickly, agreeing with Changbin's reasoning.

"That's because Wonnie is a pathological liar--ouch!" You rub the spot on your leg where Wonseok hit you and glare at him. Although, you're not sure he saw your face through the hat.

"Stop telling people that I'm a pathological liar." You don't have to see to know that he's rolling his eyes. Wonseok shifts a bit and faces Hyunjin and Changbin. "I enlisted right after I graduated high school to get my military service over with. I ended up liking it so much that I stayed for two more years. When I finally enrolled in university, I was so much older than everyone in my classes that I just never mentioned how old I was. I met Y/n our senior year during our internship so I never said anything. She didn't know that I was older until we got our official IDs with our birth year on them."

"And he's so much older," You crack a smile.

"Stop that, I'm only 3 years older than you."

"Whatever," You wave him off as you turn back to the two younger men. "Besides, we're really like family. His parents treat us like siblings."

"Plus I have a girlfriend."

"And he has a girlfri..." Your voice falters in the middle of your sentence as you think about it for a moment. You turn to Wonseok and blink for a moment as you try to process what's happening. "You got a girlfriend? You actually got a woman to talk to you? Romantically? Who is it? Do I know her?"

His lips form a line so tight that the skin around them turns white while he tries to think. You flip part of the bucket hat up so you can see his have better. He's looking down at a blade of grass, contemplating something before he meets your eyes. "Frankie,"

"My Frankie?"

"Well, technically our Frankie but yeah." He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"Oh," Your heart rapidly sinks to the bottom of your stomach.

You physically bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking a million questions. Knowing that your best friends are dating behind your back hurts. Especially when there's an unspoken agreement against keeping secrets. So why did…

"I'm going to throw this all away and then we can explore a bit more." You get up quickly and take everyone's now empty water bottle.

If you stay where you are and continue to let your mind wander any further, you're going to either say something rude to Wonseok or burst into tears. You're happy that your friends found happy relationships. But they kept it from you and the idea of that doesn't feel good in your head or your heart.

"Noona--"

Wonseok puts his arm out, preventing Changbin from going after you. You're out of ear range as you walk quickly to the trashcan. Wonseok turns to both younger men and shares a small smile. "I get it but if you try to comfort Y/n when she's upset, it's going to become a bigger issue. Trust me, she hate when people see her upset or cry. Just let her have a moment and then she'll be okay."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[mariclerc]

Drunk confession | cl16

Warnings: fluff, a little blurb, vampire!au, sweet and gentle Charles.

(let me know if you want part 2)

You and Charles are in a lively party filled with music, laughter, and colorful lights. You two are sitting in a cozy corner, drinks in hand, feeling the warmth of the atmosphere. You’re both a little tipsy, and the air is filled with excitement. You and him have been friends forever, metaphorically speaking, you've been there through thick and thin, even when he confessed to you at the age of twelve that he was some kind of vampire - you never left his side. He's been your crush since you were fourteen, but you were so afraid of ruining the friendship, considering you're his only true and loyal friend.

“I can’t believe we actually danced like that! I’m still embarrassed!” you giggled.

He laughed. “Embarrassed? You were amazing! I loved every second of it!”

“You just like seeing me make a fool of myself.” you say playfully.

He grins. “Not at all! You’re the cutest little fool I know!”

You both burst into sweet giggles, the sound mingling with the music around you. You can feel the warmth of the moment, and your heart races.

“Okay, okay. But really, thank you for always being here.” you sip your drink. “I appreciate it!”

He leans closer. “Always, chérie. You know I’ve got your back, right?”

You just nodded, feeling a mix of shyness and affection. “I do… It just means a lot to me.”

He watches you intently, a soft smile on his face. You can sense he’s about to say something, but the moment stretches, filled with unspoken words.

“So… when are you going to let me take you on a real date, huh?” he says playfully.

You blushed so hard. “A date? Cha, I... I don’t know…” you say softly.

“Come on! You can’t tell me you don't see the way I look at you!” he says teasingly.

You laughed nervously. “I mean, I notice… but…” you take a deep breath, feeling the alcohol buzz and the warmth of his gaze. “Charles, after everything… my last relationship was… complicated, you know that.” you say seriously.

He nods, understanding. “I know, darling, I know and that's why I’ve been patient... I just... I want to be the guy you really deserve.” he says softly.

You smiled softly. “You’re always so optimistic about us.”

“Because I believe in us. You’re my best friend, and I can’t help but feel there’s something more bubbling beneath the surface.” he smiled shyly.

You look down, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you... A date? With Charles? That's not a bad idea but you still feel insecure about going into a relationship again...

A year ago you got out of a pretty ugly and toxic relationship with your ex, he tried to control every aspect of your life, it was like you weren't allowed to laugh or feel free at least, and even with that he cheated on you, Charles never liked him, he always noticed something strange in his behavior and especially in the way he was jealous when you talked to him. So, you take another sip of your drink, trying to gather your thoughts and feelings.

“What if… what if I told you I like you? Like, I... I really like you.” you say temptingly.

Charles' eyes widen in surprise, and then a big grin spreads across his face.

“You like me?! Like... Really like me?” he says excitedly. “With fangs and all?” he asked softly showing off his fangs and you just giggled.

“Yes! I really do… I just... I didn’t know how to say it!” you say nervously.

He giggled. “Aww, you’re so adorable, little bee! I’ve been waiting for you to say that!” he leans closer, his expression softening.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?” you blushed.

“No! I mean it. I’ve liked you for a long time too.” he says sincerely.

You feel a rush of warmth through your body, and your heart races even more.

You smile shyly. “This is so crazy…” you smiled shyly at him.

“Crazy good I hope!” he says playfully.

He leans in and kisses your forehead gently, making your heart flutter. The contact of his soft and surprisingly warm lips against your forehead makes you lean against his touch.

“You’ve always been special to me.” he says in a soft whisper. “And you deserve to know it each day, even though I always tell you.”

“I just thought you saw me as your best friend.” you say while you feel shy but happy.

He shakes his head. “You’re more than a best friend, y/n. You’re my favorite person in the whole universe!”

You both share a moment of laughter, the giggles echoing around you as the party continues.

“So, what now? Do I owe you a date?” you say playfully.

He giggled. “Definitely! And I promise to make it the best date ever!”

You tease him a bit. “You better not disappoint me!”

“Me? Disappoint you? Never!” he says while mocking and laughing.

You both laugh again, the atmosphere around you feeling lighter. The music transitions to a more romantic tune, and you can’t help but sway slightly in your spot.

“So, what would our date be like?” you lean closer.

“Hmm, let's see… maybe a midnight picnic under the stars? I could even bring some treats and some of my favorite blood-red wine.” he winks.

You laugh, feeling the playful side of him shine through. “Blood-red wine? That's very fitting for a vampire!”

He smiles. “Exactly! And I’d make sure you have such a great time.”

You feel a warmth spread through you, realizing just how much you enjoy being with him. He is your safe place, your confidant, your best friend, your home.

“You’re really going all out, huh?” you say playfully.

He speaks confidently. “For you? Always. You deserve the best and finest things in life, sweetheart.”

The atmosphere shifts slightly as you both share a comfortable silence, basking in the warmth sensation of your newfound feelings.

“I’ve always felt safe with you… even after everything that happened last year...” you murmured softly.

He speaks sincerely. “That’s what I want for you. Safety, happiness… and love... Lots of love.”

You look into his eyes, feeling a connection deeper than friendship.

You smile. “I think I’m ready for this.”

“Hm? Ready for what, amour?”

“For whatever this is...” you giggle.

He beams. “I’m ready too.”

He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers, and you feel a rush of electricity between you.

You giggle softly. “Look at us, all lovey-dovey at a party!”

He laughs. “I think it’s the best kind of party!”

As you both continue to share playful banter and laughter, you realize that this moment marks the beginning of something beautiful between you two... You two look at each other, feeling lighter and more connected than ever, with the promise of love and friendship blossoming between you.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY BELLARA LUTARE - PARTY BANTER *  assorted banter from dragon age: the veilguard

trouble ahead.

looks like we're doing this!

we're getting good at this!

let's try to keep quiet and not disturb that thing.

i can't believe this café is hidden inside all the crowds and chaos. i love it!

so many things you could buy. how do you choose?

what was there before? does anyone even remember?

everyone helped out.

you shouldn't worry at all.

wish we had a few of those.

it changes every day.

some get killed, some go missing. some just leave.

you don't see your family or friends?

you must miss them.

i sure didn't expect that.

is that really enough punishment?

i know him. knew him, i mean, when we were kids.

i wonder if there's a basement.

kinda weird, isn't it?

this... changes everything.

nice room you have here.

i can't believe it. we're meeting!

um... what should i call you?

i'll catch up on sleep later.

i have a question. about undead.

that's amazing! and really bad of course.

i think we should prove it.

it feels weird. different. from other magic.

i'm not sure i'd like that.

when i went out there, i could feel it. somewhere.

you won't believe what i found yesterday.

too bad we can't ask.

i'll remember not to ask about that.

what do you think of it?

i'm making progress!

it's mostly a survival thing.

oh, i heard about that.

that would be a nightmare!

i knew you'd catch that.

is this difficult for you?

how do you know literally everyone?

the world must be a little broken, but you can't just erase it to start over.

i was so careful! did i miss a spot?

i have some questions for you!

you both seem pretty happy about it.

you know what? i wish you could, too.

you don't have to answer if you don't want to.

you'd be surprised.

my father taught me about every deadly plant. mostly to keep me from eating them, i think.

i was wondering something.

thanks again for dinner last night.

there's a sequel? have you read it?

i took a lot of notes while you were away.

thank you. really. you're a good friend. a really, really good friend.

old habits die hard.

what kind of traps?

i shouldn't make it anyone else's problem.

[waitinbythephone]

I feel really insane over helena eagan's reactions to helly's feelings. and i think this one edit I saw on twitter (an edit to "a new kind of love" by frou frou by 888hnh on tiktok) encapsulates it really well.

"if you're falling in love let me feel it" like..... INSANE. helena has probably never really. Felt anything like it. and suddenly it's just There, and of course she's gonna be. amazed by it.

if innies are subhuman, if innies aren't real people, then. how. come. I. feel. this. way.

kind of like when you fall in love, you can feel your body's chemistry change in Real Time. imagine having that happen and having no clue why. no clue, until you realise your innie is falling in love, and in doing so, in a way so are you. of course helena is gonna be going crazy over outie mark too. just thinking, "can you feel it? can you feel it like I can? logically, there's nothing tying us together. it's not you and me down there. yet there is. there must be. is there?"

she's intrigued. she's curious. hell, I'd even say she's excited! like this might be the first time she's ever felt anything like it, and in a way, it's hers, and in a way, it's not. of course a part of her wants to cheat. break the balance. have a taste. stick your finger in the cake's buttercream while no one is looking.

she wants to know. she wants to know why helly feels it. she wants to know why she feels it. and god, does she want to know if she's capable of feeling it for herself.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

This fic has legitimately broken something deep in my brain. Since you posted this, I have read it at least once a day, intending to finally do my reblog, but by the time I get to the end, I am in such a state that I have to take a lap around the house. Then, when I try to write this up, I’m like, “Hold up, I need to read again so I can call out my favorite bits,” and the cycle repeats. Over and over and over again.

So this time, I’m writing while I’m reading. It’s very stream of consciousness and not organized at all, you are warned.

Billy getting weirded out that a stranger would ask him for help picking up books hurts. Like his family made him feel so useless that he can hardly believe someone could trust him to do this one, simple thing? I’m gonna fucking fight the Washingtons I swear to GOD.

But then he immediately asks to help some more! Because a nice, pretty girl had that base-level trust in him and that alone starts healing him! Knowing that one person, even a stranger, likes him is enough for him to start getting his life together. THAT’S ALL HE NEEDED! Again, fuck the Washingtons.

“He was existing, not really living, but that suited Billy just fine.” I won’t forgive you for this one.

Ugh, the physical way he reacts to his self-consciousness and anxiety is so real! And the voices of Lana and his parents in his head are exactly how I feel when my RSD pops up. It’s kind of pathetic to relate to Billy this much, but I don’t care. I love him, daddy.

BILLY STANDING UP FOR HIS (GIRL)FRIEND AYYYYY. That took so much confidence and was such a big step forward for him oh my gosh. Even if it did get him a black eye…

Him falling in love via her reading to him is DIVINE!

FUCKING BECKY! But I’m so proud of him for shutting her down so quickly and maturely. Even if he didn’t handle his neighbor seeing her quite as well. Still, his relapse is very realistic and well done. It really does just take one little thing to wipe out weeks of progress.

Him finding the courage to go to her again and ask for help is absolutely amazing. That is the true sign of progress, where he realizes he needs both to help himself and to lean on other people if he really wants to get better.

And, of course, fantastic smut! Really the cherry on top, lol.

I loved this so much, Ange. It’s definitely going on my list of regular rereads. 💜

Laugh Like Me Again

Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Angst, smut. Word count: ~7k

Summary: Billy accidentally strikes up a friendship with the girl that's just moved into the flat next door, but when faced repeatedly with the baggage of their pasts they struggle to take it any further than "just friends".

Author's note: A (belated) birthday gift for @targaryenrealnessdarling. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. Billy sat on the sofa in the living room of his flat with the curtains closed, blocking out the midday winter sun. He’d not long gotten out of bed, barely lucid as an episode of Come Dine With Me played away to itself in the background. He stared at the TV screen, but wasn’t actually taking anything in, it may as well have stayed switched off.

A loud crash against his front door, followed by several soft thuds upon the floor outside of it, startled him out of his torpid state, the sudden noise causing him to jump slightly. Billy didn’t cope well with unexpected loudness anymore, he hadn’t for six months, not since he’d watched his car explode into a fiery wreck on Cranstead Fields. He grasped the arm of the sofa tightly, eyes wide and breathing accelerated as he looked towards the door, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he worried it might burst out of it.

It wasn’t until he heard the muffled voice of a woman swearing on the other side of the door that he finally relaxed, fear giving way to curiosity, as he rose slowly from his seat and walked towards the front door, opening it with trepidation.

There, upon the carpeted floor, knelt a young woman, a collapsed cardboard box discarded to the side of her, as she scrambled to pick up books that were strewn across the communal hallway floor.

“You alright?” he asked tentatively, watching as she huffed, attempting to gather the books into a tidy pile.

“Give me a hand, would you?” she asked distractedly, not looking up at him. “Fucking box was too heavy and the bottom gave way.”

He hesitated a moment, taken aback by her request. Nobody ever asked Billy for help, nobody ever asked him for anything really, he wasn’t usually a person that anyone felt they could depend upon, yet here was a complete stranger trusting him to come to her aid.

Finally, he stooped down, picking up as many books as he could manage to carry. His eyes skimmed the covers, taking in the authors’ names; Stephen King, Terry Pratchett, Tanith Lee – he’d read none of them. He had never been much of a reader though; the last book he had touched had been Of Mice and Men for GCSE English. Billy hadn’t understood it, and the F grade he’d gotten had reflected that.

He adjusted the heavy load in his arms, standing awkwardly, as she finally righted herself, the remainder of her books cradled against her chest.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“So, erm, where we taking these then?” he asked.

“Just next door,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder at him as she walked the short distance to the front door next to his. “We’re gonna be neighbours.”

Billy followed close behind. The flat next to his had sat empty for months. It had been nice not to have to worry about the odd hours he kept, or how loud he had his TV.

Oh god, had she been able to hear him watching trash telly through the wall?

Her front door had been left on the latch, and he watched as she gently nudged it open with her foot and began to place the books in her arms down upon the floor, off to the side of the doorway. Once her arms were empty, she gestured for him to pass her the ones that he was holding and then did the same with those.

“D’you want help shifting anything else?” he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his grey jogging bottoms once he’d passed her the last of the books.

She straightened, turning to face him as she wiped her hands on her blue jeans. She really was stunning. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a high ponytail, leaving her features open and unobscured, and despite the casualness of her oversized jumper and jeans, she carried herself with a self assuredness that, to Billy, made it seem like the sexiest outfit in the world. He was immediately self conscious of his own scruffiness at that moment. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since waking up, but he knew he needed a shower and a shave. A giant stain from last night’s Pot Noodle emblazoned the chest of his black t-shirt, the very same t-shirt that he’d worn all day yesterday and then slept in. It was suddenly difficult to look her in the eye.

“That was the last of the boxes from that carload, actually,,” she said with a soft smile. “I can only fit so much in my shitty Fiat Panda, so having to make a fair few trips. Thank you for helping me though, and sorry for chucking books at your front door.”

Billy huffed softly through his nose, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “Don’t mention it.”

She pulled the door closed and locked it. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” she smiled, giving him her name, “and what should I call you?”

“I’m Billy,” he told her, his tone almost apologetic.

“Well, see you around, Billy.”

He watched her retreat down the hallway, until she disappeared through the door to the stairwell. He really hoped he would see her again, if anything just so he could prove to her that he was capable of not looking like an absolute slob.

Billy headed straight for the bathroom once he was back inside his own flat, not emerging until he’d showered, washed his hair, brushed his teeth, shaved and changed into clean clothes. It all felt like an effort, everything did these days. Piecing his life back together in the months that had followed his car being blown up had been difficult. It had been hard to come to terms with the idea that he had been radicalised by a terrorist group, impossible to make peace with the fact that he’d survived the explosion designed to kill him. His older sister, Lana, had nagged at him to go to therapy, to work through the trauma of what had happened, but therapy was expensive and he needed to keep a roof over his head, especially since Becky had split up with him and moved back to her mum’s. He had managed to get a job behind the bar of a local pub – the hours were shit and the pay wasn’t much better, but it made him feel useful, especially when it came to the manual aspects such as changing barrels and taking deliveries of crates of mixers and spirits. Each shift left him too exhausted to think about all he’d been through. He was existing, not really living, but that suited Billy just fine.

As the sky outside darkened into the purgatory that exists between late afternoon and early evening, his stomach began to rumble and he realised he hadn’t eaten yet today. Pulling open the fridge, Billy sighed at the bare shelves within. A half used bottle of ketchup lay on its side, a red puddle of sauce gathering beneath its lid, while the dregs of a carton of milk that was already two days past its use by date occupied the space in the door.

Fuck’s sake, he muttered to himself, stepping into his trainers and pulling on his coat, preparing for a trip out into the cold to buy groceries. A soft knock caused him to pause as he was zipping up his coat, and he tugged the door open, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise at the sight of his neighbour standing on the other side. He hadn’t anticipated seeing her again so soon, but he was glad he was in a better state than he was on their first encounter.

“Sorry, me again,” she said, raising her hand in a slight wave. “You’re probably sick of me asking for help, but I’ve unpacked my kettle and was gonna make a brew, but realised I’ve not got any milk. Don’t suppose you could lend me some?”

Billy couldn’t help but grin as he looked down at her, clearly amused by her question. “I thought people only did that in films,” he admitted. “I was actually just on my way out to buy some, if you wanna come? I can show you where the Tesco Express is.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice, actually,” she said, her face lighting up as she smiled brightly, “let me just grab my jacket.”

It was bitterly cold as they walked, the frigid air nippled relentlessly at Billy’s fingers, causing him to put his hands in his coat pockets to keep them warm. The street lamps were starting to come on as the sky turned a blue so dark it was almost black, and the continuous shine of the headlights of passing cars, coupled with the hum of their engines felt almost oppressive. He looked to her, seeking distraction. Billy worried that she might be cold; she’d only put on a leather jacket over the top of her jumper, though she had paired it with a massive, woolen scarf that she kept her face buried in up to her nose. 

“You all moved in now then?” he asked.

“Yeah, all my stuff’s in the flat now,” she replied, lifting her face from her scarf to look up at him, “just need to unpack it.”

Billy nodded, rounding a corner to the street that would lead them to the nearest Tesco. “So, what brings you to this neck of the woods then?”

“Had to leave my last place pretty sharpish,” she told him, “needed somewhere that was furnished and available straight away. This was the closest available to where I work.”

Her eye contact was avoidant as she explained this, seeming to retreat into herself. They were almost at the Tesco anyway, and Billy didn’t want to push a topic she was clearly uncomfortable talking about, so they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Billy grabbed milk, chocolate covered digestives and a couple of frozen pizzas, while she did a larger shop of essentials she didn’t have at her flat. As he watched her scan bread, eggs, milk and fresh fruit and vegetables through the self checkout, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the junk food within his own basket. She had done a proper grown up’s shop, his own was the furthest thing from that.

“Let me make you a cuppa, to say thanks for everything today,” she offered as they stepped back into the warmth of their block of flats.

“Alright, sounds good,” Billy nodded, following her through her door.

Her living room was a sea of cardboard boxes, with barely any room to stand, let alone to sit down to drink tea.

“I know the cups are in here somewhere,” she said, setting down her shopping bags and beginning to open a box marked ‘KITCHEN’,

“Tell you what,” Billy suggested, “let’s go to mine for a tea. You can owe me one once you’re unpacked.”

Her eyes softened in gratitude as she looked up from the box at him, and it made warmth spread through his chest that rose all the way to his cheeks. He had to look away for fear she’d notice.

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Billy.”

He regretted his offer almost as soon as they stepped into his flat. Billy had never been tidy, if he hadn’t realised it himself, then the countless times that Lana had visited and nagged at him for it had certainly driven the message home.

You know, you can tidy up, Billy.

You’re allowed to open the curtains.

When was the last time you washed up?

It was easy to ignore when it was his own sister's passing comments, however, with a pretty girl by his side, it was as though he was looking at his living space through a fresh set of eyes, and he hated what he saw.

“Sorry…” he muttered, shame settling over him like a weighted blanket as he looked at the array of empty beer cans and crisp packets that were strewn across the coffee table.

She huffed an easy laugh as she followed him through to the kitchen. “Honestly, it’s fine. It’s not like you were expecting company, and you shouldn’t feel the need to apologise for how you keep your own space.”

He turned to stare at her, his brow furrowed in confusion at her lack of disgust. There was sincerity in her eyes, she wasn’t just being nice, she meant it. Her reaction eased his embarrassment somewhat, until he opened the cupboard to find he had no clean mugs.

“D’you live alone then?” she asked as he flicked on the kettle.

“Was it that obvious?” he replied with a grin, fishing two mugs out of the full sink. He busied himself with rinsing them out, while she leaned her back against the kitchen side, watching him.

She laughed at his response, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he scraped off the plate of used tea bags into the almost overflowing bin. It had been a long time since there had been laughter in his flat.

“So, what do you do for work then?” he asked, once they’d settled on the sofa with their teas. Billy had discarded his dirty washing to make space for her to sit next to him, and cleared the table so they could set down their mugs, alongside the packet of chocolate digestives he’d bought.

“I’m the social media manager for a publishing company,” she told him, before helping herself to a biscuit from the open packet and taking a bite.

Billy didn’t think he’d ever heard anything so daft in his entire life. He took a swig of his tea in an attempt to hide the way his features twisted in disdain. “So…er…do you just sit on Facebook all day then?”

She covered her lips with her hand as she giggled around a mouthful of biscuit. “That’s a bit of an oversimplification,” she said once she’d swallowed, “there’s a lot more to it than that.”

“Yeah, I s’pose there’s Twitter and Instagram too,” he said with a playful cock of his eyebrow.

“Oh, fuck off!” she grinned, swatting playfully at his leg.

Billy adored how easy he found being in her company, he had anticipated them not having much in common when he’d helped her to pick up her books earlier, but was now finding he hadn’t been this relaxed around anyone in a long time.

“So, what do you do then?”

The question made him tense, all sense of relaxation leaving his body as the familiar feeling of shame found its home within his body once more. His gaze drifted down to the mug that he held cradled in his hands as he spoke, feeling the need to justify his answer, and terrified she’d judge him for it. “I…erm…I work at The Joiners. It’s a pub not too far from here. It’s just temporary though, until I find something else.”

“What would you rather be doing?” she asked, before sipping her tea.

Billy blinked, stunned by the genuine interest in her tone. He was used to ‘you aren’t trying hard enough, Billy’ or ‘there’s always an excuse not to’. No one had ever bothered to take the time to ask him what he actually wanted.

“I dunno,” he admitted, lifting his eyes to meet hers, “I applied to join the army a couple of times, and kept getting rejected. Not sure what else I could do, I just wanna feel useful y’know? Work with my hands.”

She nodded in understanding, shifting to sit cross legged on the sofa as she faced him fully. “So, like manual labour?”

“Yeah, I s’pose. Bricklaying or something, would be cool to have a trade.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, leaning forward to put his half empty mug on the coffee table, before settling back against the sofa cushions. “Not that simple, is it? I’ve got no experience, I can’t just rock up to a building site and ask for a job.”

“No, but you can train,” she said, leaning towards him, her eyes lit up with enthusiasm, “there are vocational colleges that have two year courses for that sort of thing, and it would fit in perfectly around your bar work.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he admitted, raking a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s why it’s good you’ve now got a friend that sits on Facebook all day for a living,” she said with a playful wink, “because I do. Let me help you.”

Let me help you.

The simplicity of those four little words made Billy’s heart soar, the warmth of his smile lit up his entire face as he nodded at her. “Alright then.”

“Good,” she smiled softly, before gesturing towards his Playstation. “Got any two player games?”

She had utterly destroyed him at several rounds of Street Fighter, before all too quickly they had to call it a night. Billy went to bed happier than he’d felt in ages, never more grateful for someone having chucked books at his front door by accident.

When he woke the next morning, he was surprised when he looked at his phone to see that it was before midday – 9am, to be exact. Billy never got up that early, yet he found himself slipping out of bed with ease and, for the first time since Becky had left, he opened the curtains.

Letting light into the flat felt like opening up a new chapter of his life, but also it highlighted just how much of a shit state he’d allowed the place to get into. He busied himself that morning, clearing rubbish off of every surface, washing up, wiping down the sides, emptying the bin, and filling the washing machine with dirty laundry. He even hoovered the floors and cleaned the bathroom – neither one a job he had undertaken since moving in. It filled him with pride to think that the next time his new friend visited, she’d see his place clean and tidy.

By the time Billy finished cleaning the flat, it was almost time for him to leave for his afternoon shift at The Joiners. As he stepped out of his flat, he noticed a luminous pink post-it note stuck to his door.

‘IOU one cup of tea’ it read, with a smiley face next to it and the link to a vocational college’s bricklaying course scribbled beneath it. Billy smiled to himself, plucking it from the door and stuffing it into his pocket, before making his way to work.

A few days went by and Billy didn’t see or hear anything more from her. While he wondered about her, he figured it wouldn’t be unusual for them not to cross paths – they kept completely different hours – she worked a Monday to Friday nine to five, while he worked a combination of late afternoon and evening shifts at the pub.

It was a late afternoon shift he was returning from that evening when he heard raised voices coming from her flat. They were muffled from behind the door, but he could hear the distinctive anger of a deep male voice, and her softer one in response. She sounded upset.

Billy paused, his key lifted halfway to the lock, as her front door flew open.

“Just get out!” she sobbed, “I don’t want you here!”

She shoved desperately at a man that was slightly shorter than he was, but of a much sturdier build. He moved clumsily out of her flat, righting himself against the wall as he stared her down with fury in his eyes. “You can’t leave me,” he seethed, “who else would want you? You’re damaged goods!”

Billy’s anger flared as he heard that. That stupid cunt had no idea what he was talking about, and certainly had no right to say that to her. He shoved his keys back into the pocket of his jeans, and stalked over to where the bloke stood against the wall.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” he glowered, staring intensely at the man before him.

“Billy, don’t–”

“Who’s this then?” the guy scoffed in amusement, cutting her off. His gaze moved between her and Billy. “You moved on already? You lying bitch!”

“I said, don’t speak to her like that!” Billy snarled, grabbing him by his jacket.

“Liam, no!”

Her shout of protest came too late. The impact of the fist against Billy’s face whipped his head to the side, the inertia knocking him off his feet as he landed heavily on the carpet with a shocked expulsion of air.

Liam stepped over Billy, walking away towards the stairwell, leaving him to cradle the side of his face as he lay on the floor, a dull pulse of pain throbbing against his cheekbone and spreading out across his eye socket.

“Oh god, Billy, I’m so sorry,” she cried, kneeling beside him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

A few minutes later, he sat in an armchair in her flat, with a bag of frozen peas clutched against the side of his face. The eye that wasn’t obscured by the makeshift medical aid took in her living room. She’d unpacked. The shelves were filled with books, the sofa adorned with colourful throw blankets and cushions, and she’d placed plants and candles on almost every surface. It was cozy, it felt like a home.

“Thought you might want something a bit stronger than tea,” she said, appearing from the kitchen with two open bottles of beer in her hands. She handed one to Billy, before moving to sit on the end of the sofa that was nearest the armchair that he currently occupied.

“Thanks,” Billy said, offering her a tight smile, “for the beer, and the peas.”

Her brows arched in concern, her eyes still red rimmed from crying as she looked at him. “I really am sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Not you that needs to apologise,” he told her, pulling the peas away from his face as he took a swig of his beer. “Who was that prick anyway?”

She sighed, her eyes downcast as her thumbs picked anxiously at the Birra Moretti label on her bottle. “My ex, Liam. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Billy huffed in mild amusement, placing the bag of peas on the table in front of him.

“You’re gonna have a bruise,” she said, her tone apologetic.

“I’ve had worse,” he replied with a shrug, “are you alright?”

“I will be…” - she drank deeply from her beer - “was stupid of me to tell him he could come round anyway. He said he was gonna drop off a few things I’d left behind and I was gullible enough to think it wouldn’t end in an argument.”

Billy longed to comfort her. He’d only known her a week though, and they’d only hung out once, he wasn’t sure how she’d take it if he just pulled her into a hug. His heart ached for her, yet at the same time his own selfish jealousy flared within him, wanting to know precisely what had led to their split, to know if Liam was still a part of her life.

“So, what happened between you two…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Caught him in bed with someone else,” she sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, “Liam had always had a bit of a wandering eye, but I never thought it would amount to anything serious. It did, so I found this place and moved out as quickly as I could. As you saw, he’s not enjoying dealing with the consequences of his own actions.”

“You think he’ll come back?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Billy furrowed his brow, growing pensive for a moment, before an idea occurred to him. “Give me your phone,” he said, holding his hand out.

“What? Why?”

“I’m gonna put my number in it. If he comes back, I want you to ring me okay?”

“So he can deck you again?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “He caught me by surprise, is all. I’ll be ready next time.”

He knew he was lying. Billy had never been a fighter, physical strength just wasn’t a skill he possessed, it was part of the reason the army had rejected him twice. Still, as he entered his number into the contacts of her phone, he knew he’d feel better just knowing he could be there for her.

She never texted him, though over the next couple of weeks they spent every evening that Billy wasn’t working together. At his place, they played Street Fighter and he imposed a rule that she wasn’t allowed to choose Chun Li as her character, as her knowledge of her special moves put her at an unfair advantage. When they were at hers, she read aloud to him from a copy of The Shining by Stephen King – a chapter for each visit. Billy had never enjoyed books, until now; the story was engaging, and not just because of Jack Torrence’s slow descent into madness. Her voice made every word more captivating and he found himself disappointed when each part drew to a close.

He was coming towards the end of an afternoon shift when his phone vibrated in his pocket – a text from an unknown number.

‘Hi stranger. Got a surprise for you back at the flat xxx’

His heart skipped a beat, his pulse racing as he realised it was from her. She’d never text him before, which is why her number wasn’t saved. He wondered what she could possibly have in store for him, and the rest of the afternoon felt as though time had ground to a halt as he waited impatiently to go home.

He frowned as he heard music playing softly from his flat as he arrived back – how had she gotten in? She didn’t have a key.

Opening the door, the music grew louder – some 90s R&B song that he didn’t know that name of, and there were lit candles on the coffee table in the living room.

“H–hello?” he called out, struggling to keep the anxious tremor from his voice.

“In here,” a voice replied from the bedroom.

He froze at the sound of it. He knew that voice. It filled him with a sense of dread, and for a moment, he considered simply turning and leaving.

Slowly, he made his way to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. The sight within formed a pit in his stomach. His ex, Becky, lay provocatively on her side, her curves encased in lacy black lingerie, as she looked at him with a sultry smile upon her lips. Six months ago, he’d have been a goner for the display before him, now it made bile rise in his throat.

“Hiya, gorgeous,” she cooed, “I’ve missed you.”

His lips set into a hard line as he looked away, annoyance in his tone. “Becky, what the fuck are you playing at? How did you even get in?”

“I wanted to see you,” she said, pouting as she slipped off the bed to move towards him, “and I’ve still got my key.”

Realisation set in – the text had been from her. On the advice of Lana, he had deleted Becky’s number when they’d split for good, a means of avoiding the temptation to reach out to her. It had helped a lot in the process of getting over her. But it was now apparent that she had kept his.

He backed away from her as she reached for him, his face hardened in an expression of disgust and anger as he clenched his fists at his sides. His nostrils flared as he battled to keep his voice from raising. “Well, you can give your fucking key back when you leave. I don’t want you here.”

“You can’t be serious?” she scoffed, “You are rejecting me?”

He stared at her, unable to believe that this was a person who he had once mourned the loss of – he felt nothing but irritation seeing her now, a desperate need to be rid of her. “I am, yeah. You bailed when things fell apart. I don’t need you hanging around like a bad smell now that they’re finally piecing back together. Get out.”

“You’ll regret this, Billy,” she said angrily, her movements erratic and hurried as she snatched her tan coloured trench coat from the floor and belted it around herself, “you won’t do better than me.”

“I think I already have. Keys,” he demanded, holding his hand out.

She pulled them hastily from her pocket, chucking them towards him, before barging past him and out of the flat. Billy followed, watching her leave. She paused once in the hallway, looking to her right and smiling, before turning her attention back to him.

“Bye then, Billy,” she said, her tone saccharinely sweet. She blew him a kiss and then sauntered away.

His brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in her behaviour, until he looked to the left and saw his neighbour standing in the hallway, her copy of The Shining clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide, a look of shock upon her face, though Billy was certain he could also see something akin to hurt reflected in their depths.

“Oh,” was all she uttered, before hurrying back inside and slamming her door behind her.

No. No. No. No. No.

“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath, slamming his hand against the doorframe in frustration.

Billy’s heart felt as though it was dropping endlessly through his body. Every part of him screamed at him to go after her, to explain to her what had happened, to reassure that what they had was – what?

The more he thought about it, the more he realised he didn’t quite know what was occurring between them. It would be weird for him to show up at her door and explain all of that away, under the assumption that she’d care. Perhaps he’d misread the situation, but as he retreated back into his flat he couldn’t shake the heavy burden of misery that settled upon him. There was a lingering sense of loss, a feeling that he had just allowed something important to slip through his fingers.

Billy fell back into a state of miserable, lifeless existence over the following week. There were no further hangouts with his neighbour, and he ached with the sensation of missing her. The flat grew messier with each passing day, but he found himself not caring, trapped in his own cowardice of not being able to simply reach out to her. All it would take was a knock at her door, but it felt too big, too scary. The curtains had closed around his world once more.

As he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets on his way to work one afternoon, his fingers brushed against a slip of paper. Fishing it out, he saw that it was the pink post-it note she had left on his door the morning after they’d first met. He smiled faintly at the memory, though his heart twinged with sadness. He looked at the URL scrawled at the bottom – he had forgotten about it until now.

During a lull between customers at the pub, Billy disappeared around the corner of the bar, pulling his phone free from his jeans pocket and hastily typed the link from the note into the browser. It led to the page to register for an open evening at a local vocational college. He’d left it so long to check it out, that the day was now only a week away. For a moment, he considered simply locking his phone again and forgetting about it. It was overwhelming, the unknown, the possibility for failure, but something niggled at the back of his mind – the memory of how enthusiastically she’d offered to help him out – he owed it to her to register. Before he had time to convince himself otherwise, he input his details, hit submit and then pocketed his phone once more.

As he worked the rest of his shift, his mind was preoccupied by thoughts of the open evening. What if they told him he was too stupid, laughed at him for even considering applying to any of the courses and told him he was useless?

He realised he needed someone there with him, otherwise he wouldn’t go at all. For a moment, he considered asking Lana, but that would put too much pressure on the situation – she’d ask too many demanding questions, expect him to know straight away what course he wanted to apply to, and then feed it all back to their parents. That was the absolute last thing he needed; nagging from mum and disapproval from dad. He wanted her there with him, the person who had started all of this in the first place. She made him feel supported and inspired, and the thought of having her by his side made it seem less overwhelming. The question was, would she even want to come?

Once he finished work, he found himself outside of her flat, fist raised to the door, but not quite able to knock. In the time they hadn’t spoken, their friendship had existed in limbo to Billy – it either was or it wasn’t, but there was still the hope to cling to that she did still think fondly of him. He hated the idea of knocking on her door and her reacting negatively, telling him to get lost. It would add a sense of finality to it all, confirm once and for all that he was alone again.

Fucking idiot, just knock, he muttered to himself, before finally rapping his knuckles against the wood.

He heard her soft footsteps on the other side of the door before she opened it and for a moment Billy just stood there, lips parted and unable to say anything as his entire body surged with warmth at the sight of her. Her hair was loose, tousled around her shoulders, and she was wearing an oversized white t-shirt and pyjama shorts – it looked as though she was ready for bed.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of him, obviously not expecting to see him. “Everything okay?” she asked, a tinge of concern colouring her tone.

It was then Billy realised he hadn’t said anything, had just been gawping at her like a creep. He lowered his gaze, swallowing thickly as embarrassment made his cheeks blaze. “S–sorry…yeah…I erm…I registered for that open evening at the college you mentioned.”

“Oh…oh, right,” she said slowly, nodding as she wrapped her arms around herself, “that’s good…that’s really good.”

“It’s next week,” he told her, finally looking up to meet her gaze, “I wondered if you wouldn’t mind coming with me…if…if you’re not busy?”

She chewed her lip anxiously for a moment before replying. “Isn’t that something you’d want your girlfriend to go with you to?”

Billy sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew exactly what she was referring to. Of course that was what she had thought. Fucking Becky.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he admitted, “I mean…she was, but she hasn’t been for a long time.”

“What was she doing at your place then?”

Billy fought the urge to smile at the imploring look upon her face as she asked that question. She was jealous, and it made his stomach flip to know she still liked him enough to feel that way.

“Can I come in before I answer that?”

She gave a slight nod, stepping aside to let him in before closing the door behind them. They both took a seat on the sofa, and Billy felt a part of himself grow lighter as he was once more immersed in the familiarity of her flat. It felt like just as much of a home to him as his own place did.

Billy turned the upper portion of his body to face her, watching as she placed a cushion in her lap to cover her bare legs as her shorts rode up her bare thighs. The sight made his throat run dry, and he had to wet his lips before he spoke, to remind himself why he was actually here.

“Her name’s Becky,” he began, “we split up about six months ago. She left me when my life had gone to shit – that’s something I wanna tell you about one day, once I’m ready. I want you to know. But yeah, she came round, wanting to rekindle something, I guess. I chucked her out, and that’s the end of it.”

Billy watched her, eager for her to say something, anything, as she stared pensively at the cushion she held in her lap, her fingers idly stroking its edges. “I suppose it’s not my place to be upset, considering my ex decked you,” she finally said, her voice quiet, “and really, it’s none of my business–”

“But I want it to be your business,” he interrupted, “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m still with her, especially not you!”

His eyes were wide as he stared at her, hoping that she could see he was being sincere. She said nothing as she stared back, though her posture softened, becoming less defensive.

Billy wasn’t sure who moved first, but he hoisted her into his lap as their lips connected, weeks of pent up tension melting away as their mouths moved with urgency. His tongue licked against hers, messy and desperate, as he hands caressed and squeezed every part of her body his hands could reach. She was soft, so soft, and she felt right against him. He cock stirred to life, hardening in his jeans with embarrassing quickness.

When they broke for air, both panting softly, she pulled her head back as he tried to kiss her again.

“What is it?” he asked, stroking his hands up and down her sides in a soothing gesture. She hadn’t moved off of his lap and didn’t look disgusted by what had happened, much to Billy’s relief.

“I just…maybe it’s too much, too quickly?” she whispered, “We’ve both got so much baggage, I don’t want to lose you if this doesn’t work out.”

Billy shook his head, giving her hips a gentle squeeze. “I get it, I do. But why write it off before we’ve even given it a chance? I’m sick and tired of waiting for my life to start, tired of acting like we’re just mates. Can we just…”

He threaded his fingers into her messy hair, guiding her lips back to his. This time she didn’t pull away, she kissed back eagerly, only stopping to tug her t-shirt up and over her head, chucking it to the side as she straddled his lap. 

Fuck, she was gorgeous.

His hands trailed up her bare torso, tentatively palming her breasts, feeling their weight and softness in his palms. When she lifted off of his lap to tug down her pyjama shorts, she giggled as she watched him struggle with the button and zipper of his jeans. God, he loved her laugh, he’d missed that sound. He pulled her back onto his lap with a lazy grin, his eyes screwing shut as a groan escaped him. The feeling of her wet folds stroking across the head of his hardened cock sent shockwaves of pleasure shooting all the way up his spine, making him feel light headed.

“Go slow,” he pleaded, as she sank down onto him, enveloping him in her tight heat. He knew it would be over all too soon if she continued to make him feel like this. His balls were already drawing up tight against his body.

“Thought you were tired of going slow,” she teased with an experimental roll of her hips.

“Fucking hell,” he gritted out, burying his face in the crook of her neck as she rode him. Each rock of her hips made his entire body tense and tremble. The slap of their flesh meeting punctuated every undulation of her hips, combined with their soft pants and moans.

“You have to stop,” he whimpered, as the telltale build of pressure at the base of his spine signalled his end, “I’m gonna–”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, tugging at the hair at the base of his neck to prompt him to look up into her eyes, “let go for me.”

Billy stilled, holding her hips in a grip so hard he was certain he’d leave bruises as his vision turned white, his mind going blank as his cock pulsated and spilled inside of her. The sensation made his entire body shudder, his thoughts not returning until the last of the tremors had subsided.

“Fuck…fuck…” he panted, brushing his hair away from his forehead as he looked up at her, “I’m sorry, you didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” she reassured him, pecking his lips gently with hers, “you’re not getting away with doing this just once tonight.”

A grin spread across Billy’s face. He was no longer a bystander in his own life, and he had her to thank for that.

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